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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



UNITED STATES OP AMERICA. 



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LATE AND EARLY POEMS, 



WILLIAM B. TAPPAN. 




WORCESTER : 

PUBLISHED BY ERASTUS N. TUCKER, 

No. 96 Main Street. 



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75 2-^1 



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Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1849, bjr 

JONATHAN GROUT, JR., 
In the Clerlf's Office of tlie District Court of the District of 

Massacliusetts. 



STEREOTYPED AT THE 
BOSTON TYPE AND STEREOTYPE FOUNDRY. 



•o 



DEDICATION, 



MY FATHER AND MOTHER IN HEAVEN. 



O- 



Late and Early Poems is an appendix 
to the series of my revised volumes, and 
completes my published Poetical "Works. 

W. B. T. 
1849. 



-C 



INDEX TO PIRST LINES. 



Afflicted by the serpent's bite, 11 

Ah, no ! Compassion, yet imploring, 208 

"All hail the power of Jesus' name," 79 

And thou liast fled, fair spirit, 170 

A dark cloud sailed along the sky, 221 

Admit her to the Union? Yes! 223 

Beauteous blossom! welcome here, 228 

Beautiful blossoms as ye seemed, my Boys, 198 

Before me lies the troublous deep, 121 

Behold the groups that cluster there, 162 

Bring garlands ! Time shall heedless slip, 77 

But lately, sire, you saw them stand, 89 

By Hebrew wanderers bade to know, 115 

Come hither, my sweet babes ! this is the hour, ...239 

For California I and the streams 149 

Go thou and mark the holy preacher's tones, 187 

God ! while dusky Hindostan, 203 

How many vegetate in idle life, 2C6 



o- 



b INDEX TO FIRST LINES. 

1 saw two dogs in open street, 23 

I see ye towering, Genii of tlie North ! 197 

I waliced out once from Buffalo 35 

I do remember tiiee, transparent stream, 76 

I wonder English bayonets, 101 

1 gaze, and gaze, and willingly confess, 110 

I cannot choose but think this noble lad, 159 

T saw some workmen toil the other day, 211 

If drums and bells and proud parade, 61 

Idolater in darkness I we of light, 176 

In this fair Sabbath sun, 9 

In every line of this thy book, 226 

Is it to spurn at Sorrow's child, 163 

Just thirteen years, our eldest son, 209 

Last words of Christ ! There are none such 

to him, 104 

Leap from thy cradle to the seas, 128 

Men meet as strangers, and as strangers part, 127 

Merrily foams the dark blue sea, 216 

Mount Auburn, as a miser gathers wealth, 95 

No, there are gems transcending far, 58 

Our Church surveys the field, and keeps, 243 

Our fathers rose in peril's day, 237 

Our fathers and mothers had ever enough, 91 

O, say not the world deems but lightly of one, 16 

O, why should care disturb thy breast ? 32 

O, seek not comfort from the wine, 119 



o- 



O ; O 

INDEX TO FIRST LINES. 7 

O mother, in those college walls, 145 

O, what is life, but some dark dream, 230 

O, bring the peaceful banner nigh, ]84 

O, who would not shun the hurrying din, 219 

Of all the varied cheats in life, 178 

Poets, emulous of glory, 180 

Said to Christ the i)agan mother, 93 

Since this ray couch, a battle-field, 71 

Slio in whose bosom no reproof, 64 

Shopard, a worthy of the olden time, 125 

1'ax-gatherer ! scum and ofFal of the nation 1 255 

Tidings from the sea! Its isles, 97 

'Tis night. From beauteous Palestine, 33 

'Tis well for giddy man to pause, 55 

'Tis past, — the voyage of life is o'er, 195 

'Tis well to gather from your street, 174 

To free from chains a groaning land, 166 

To be and not to be ! to live and ne'er to die, .. . .124 

The Abbey Church to curious eyes, 247 

The Pencil's art and Chisel's skill, 241 

The wizard and the Pharisee, 53 

The temple by thy servants trod, "". 81 

The Bible speaks, that has spoken before, 140 

The mother peacefully had passed away, 164 

The temple of the Lord is still, 168 

The golden days of Innocence, 27 

Tiie squalid woman sat beside the bed, 29 



INDEX TO FIRST LINES, 



The happy man is he whose youth, 30 

The deaf and dumb! Tell me what heart, 106 

The Bible, free as winds of heaven, 123 

The Soul would wake, 13 

■ The minstrels of J.udah have gone to their rest,. . .235 
There are many who fall on the fields of their 

fame, 134 

They have built ye firmly, frowning walls, 201 

Thou'st seen the boy in his bright glow, 69 

Thou wast brought down by sickness, 190 

Thou new-born year ! thou span yet undefined, ...131 

Thus said Jehovah to the Jew, 19 

'Tvvas in the old Cathedral, 22 

Two items make of Furniture our store, 60 

Up, and away for Palestine, 233 

We, Lord, who on this Zion dwell,.* ICO 

We are too cold for those whose love, 231 

We saw thee in thy gladness, 73 

We see in life's wide wilderness, 108 

What meaneth this great concourse ? 23 

Who would be buried in a city? 66 

Years many I've not seen, 83 

Yes, life is but a waste, 112 

Yes, march, ye forces, in array, 193 

Yet on thy lovely robe of light, 200 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 



IN THIS FAIR SABBATH SUN. 

In this fair Sabbath sun 

I see a golden light — 
Beams from the throne of glory won, 

To radiate my night. 

In this calm Sabbath hour 

A witching voice I hear — 
Tones, breathing from an angel's bower, 

To soothe my weary ear. 



10 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

My heart, to catch that ray, 
Leaps upward from its clod, — 

Expatiates in the fields of day, 
And gladly soars to God. 

My soul, to join that song. 

At once from slumber springs, — 

And, tired of cares that lingered long. 
Takes her immortal wings ; 

And sees, outshining thrones, 
Her Lord-Redeemer's face ; — 

And sweeps a harp of loftier tones 
To Calvary and grace. 

How pales that orb of fire, 
Where beams celestial shine ! 

HoAv dies a loyal angel's lyre 
In company with mine ! 



^o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 11 



THE PARADOX. 

Afflicted by the serpent's bite, 
For Israel's help it came to pass 

That Moses lifted one in sight, 
And they were healed who looked on 
brass. 

Preposterous the behest, and blind 

To all philosophy of mind ! 

Preposterous — for the nervous will, 
In unison with Nature's laws, 

Of malady beguiles the ill 
By wise oblivion of the cause. 

Let thought, deceived, diverted, shun 

The subject, and the cure is won. 

Wounded by Satan's fiery fang, 
The bleeding, heliDless sinner lies ; 



12 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

He -writhes and wrestles with the pang 

Of hell, and if unaided, dies. 
That aid the felon-cross can give ; — 
Look, dying sinner ! look, and live. 

Yes, rise from deepest depths, and claim 
A seat beyond the shining stars, 

By gazing on the tree of shame — 
By weeping o'er those dreadful scars. 

'Tis wondrous ! yet God sees the cross 

His glory and the devil's loss. 

He takes not our inferior plan 
By Avhich to regulate his own ; 

Unfathomable is to man 
The justice of the Sovereign's throne; 

Yet brought to Truth's unerring light, 

It stands forever firm and right. 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 13 



NOT ALL A DREAM. 

The Soul would wake ; but Sleep 
O'erpowers and wraps her in his leaden 
arms; 
The slumbers of the spirit are so deep, 
No whispers break them, and no rude alarms. 

We sleep, and idly dream ; 
And we behold, as in a mirroring glass, 

Shadows of earth, that real seem. 
Before the eye in quick succession pass. 

Intangible, yet true, — 
They give impression, and they fashion mind ; 
As soon as seen — though vanishing from 
view — 
The flickering shapes their image print behind. 

o 



o 

14 LATE A ^^ I) EARLY X- O E M S 



A joy, a sorrow, leaves 
Its silent footmark where it trails ; 

We may forget ; but what the Soul receives 
In charge to keep, to keep, she never fails. 

A thought which Childhood takes. 
Dropped carelessly, — a little wayside seed, — 
Through Manhood's soil in sturdy vigor 
breaks, 
A tree of leaves and fruits, or useless, baleful 
weed. 

The hymn and holy text, 
Spelt by the mother to her infant care — 

"Will soothe in future day the bosom, vext. 
Prompt heavenly toil, and edge the sword of 
prayer. 

A silly song or jest. 
Caught by the dreamer-boy, is lodged within ; 



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LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 15 

Till reappears the active winged pest, 
To plague old age and mock death's hour 
with sin. 

Thus far the Dream of Life ; — 
Ere long shall tutor Time resign his task, 
And learners will be masters in a strife 
"Where Wisdom holds the scale and Folly 
drops the mask. 

'Tis something more, — O God, 
This awful influence is too true to seem ; — 
That which prepares for guilt a dreadful 
rod, 
For piety a crown, is not a dream ! 

All mortal visions fade ; — 
Their witchery dies, as dies at morn the night. 

One deed of mercy on the altar laid 
Through Heaven's unwasting Day shall grow 

more bright. 
— O 



16 LATE AND EARIiY POEMS. 



THE UNNAMED. 



To the individual who lately rescued a fellow-beiii j from drown- 
ing', at the imminent hazard of his own life, and when requested 
to give his name, refused, saying, "It is vio mailer — nobody 
cares a copper for me." 



0, SAY not the world deems but lightly of one 
"Who shows just the virtue it seeks to adore ; 

Or that, wedded to counterfeits only, 'twill 
shun 
The soul that is stamped of the genuine ore. 

I know not thy kin, whether beggars or czars ; 

Whether Fashion has chilled thee with 

meaningless smile ; 

Or Beauty bewildered with blaze of her stars, 

Or Folly has courted and won thee with 

wile. 



o 

LATE AND EAKLY POEMS. 17 

I know not if thou wast by Falsehood be- 
guiled ; 
A wanderer full long ; perhaps loving to 
roam; 
I care not — thy action betrays thee a child 
"Whose thoughts are to goodness, whose 
heart is at home ! 

The liberal, the godlike, have every where 
claim 
In him who to pity is fearlessly true ; 
Humanity knows him. — Who says that liis 
name 
Is veiled in oblivion, or Whispered by few ? 

God knows and approves him — 'tis fitting 
he should ! 
Unselfish benevolence fills up the plan 
Whose outline and finish reveal: "Very 

Good" 
O 



18 liATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

Inscribed on the best of his handy works, 
Man! 

Unnamed and yet knoAvn ! — not a speck in 
the crowd; 
No waif of the desert, no wreck of the 
sea; — 
A nobleman, purely from nature ! — I'm proud 
Of the race thou exaltest, thy country and 
thee! 

1848. 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 19 



GOD'S CARE FOR ALL. 



TO BOYS AND GIRLS. 



Deuteronomy, xxii. 6. 



Thus said Jehovah to the Jew, 
And thus, my boy, he says to you, — 
For in the ritual of his grace, 
Or penal law, hath pity place, — 
" If, loitering lad ! by welcome chance, 
Or purposely, thy searching glance 
Detect a bird's nest in the hedge. 
On tree-top, or the craggy ledge. 
And thou, for liberal waif, wouldst take 
The callow young, thou shalt not make 
The plundered parent-bird a prey, 
But let her, scathless, fly away. 



-o 



20 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

Contented with thy precipus gain, 
Give her no aggravated pain. 
Thou mayst not, in thine idleness 
Or pleasure, trifle with distress, 
But, sparing her the needless woe. 
In any wise shalt let her go. 
Thus, from unrighteous action free. 
It surely shall be well with thee ; 
And thou, in healthy virtue strong, 
Thy days in plenty shalt prolong." 

"What learn you from such petty care 

For helpless tenants of the air. 

In Him, whose sounding chariot-wheel 

Made Sinai to its centre reel — 

When he, in storm, and smoke, and 

flame. 
Named to the world his wondrous Name ? 
Ah, little boy ! whose crushing foot 
On harmless worm you sometimes put — 



O- 



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LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 21 

Ah, little girl ! whose eager eye 

"Watches on window-pane the fly, 

That you may rend its shining wing — 

It is to prove the smallest thing 

May in Creative Mercy share, 

And is within its love and care. 

Remember that no hateful sin 

So crusts the heart and eats within, 

As cruelty. None strikes its roots 

Like cruelty. None sooner shoots, 

Luxuriant, its detested fruits, 

Than cruelty — a loathsome spot 

On man ; on youth — O, name it not ! 

As you, in your extremest hour, 

Will mercy need, when judgments lower — 

As you, for Jesus' sake, will crave 

Exemption from an endless grave — 

The mercy which our Father gives. 

Show to the meanest thing that lives ! 



-O 



22 LATE AND EARLY POEMS 



THE GAMBLERS. 

A FACT. 

'TwAS in the old Cathedral, at midnight : 
Before the altar burned unwonted light, 
Which deepened darkness on the fretted wall. 
Where hung mysterious shadows, like a pall. 
Within the chancel sat men, void of shame, 
At the communion-table, deep in game. 
Three mocking wTetches impiously were 
Joined in the sacrilege. A fourth was there ! 
That fourth a ghastly corpse, Avhich had that 

day 
In the damp vault been laid with kindred 

clay. 
Now dragged by these blasphemers from its 

bed 
To help at cards. Uncoffined, the grim dead 



LA.TE AND EARLY POEMS. 23 



Sat thus in chilling silence, while their noise 
Went on, nor heeded their infernal joys. 



FUNERAL OF BISHOP WHITE. 

What meaneth this great concourse ? Yet 
they come, 

Crowds gathering on crowds. It is not festi- 
val — 

It looketh not like mirth. Subdued and still 

Men range themselves, and every face doth 
wear 

Expression of deep grief. 'Tis scarce high 
noon, 

Yet is the daily hum of voices hushed ; 

Footsteps fall lightly, as 'twere holy time ; 

Labor doth pause, and Commerce rests his 
wheel ; 
O O 



24 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

The merchant 's not on 'Change ; the shop is 

shut 
Of artisan. Unwonted silence reigns ; — 
And hither on his journey comes the dead ! 
By reverend presbyters and fathers borne, 
By numerous footsteps of bereaved men, 
And by the blessings of a people followed, 
Full of ripe years and honors, to the tomb 
Goeth a good old man — the patriarch 
Of ninety winters. 

Is the Bishop deadf 
Yes, in his season, like a shock of corn. 
Ripe, fully, he is gathered. We may mourn 
That he no more is with us ; and yet tears 
Seldom are blended with so much of joy 
At recollection of departed worth. 
No more may he, in deep humility. 
Plead for his Master. Counsels, fraught with 
love, 

o o 



LA TE AND EARLY POEMS. 25 

Shall from his lips, like dew, distil no more. 
No more that form, majestic, shall be seen, — 
Relic of by-gone days, — within our streets, 
Aweing the base, and gladdening the good. 
That form is in the dust. He hath laid by 
The mitre, to put on a heavenly crown, — 
The earthly lawn, to wear immortal robes. 
Go to thy grave, blest prelate ! there are few 
Lie down so peacefully. A church in tears 
Attests our love; the smiles of opening 

heaven 
Show for thee God's approval. Sainted one ! 
May we depart as happily, as safe. 

Philadelphia, 1836. 



26 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 



BRUTALITY. 

I SAW two dogs, in open street, one day, 
Fighting most madly. They were very 
strong, 
"Well shaped, and active; and they fiercely 

shook 
And bit each other, till their strength gave 
way. 
They were cheered on afresh by a vile 
throng 
Of men and vagrant boys, who idly took 
Sides in the battle ; betting, some on Dick, 
And some on generous Neptune. Sick 

At heart, and weary of my race, I said, 
" Which of the animals is noblest — he 

Whose savage cruelty is basely fed 
By pain and blood, and who is pleased to see 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 27 

Flesh torn and quivering in eager fight, — 
Or he, the misna.Taed brute? " The brute, in 
reason's sight. 



INNOCENCE. 



The golden days of Innocence 

Were those when she the garden trod, — 
When Adam yielded will and sense, 

In sv/eet subjection to his God. 

How swiftly flew those white-winged hours, 
Each with some hue of heaven impressed ! 

How honored were those Eden-bowers, 
"Where some bright angel was a guest ! 

Yet Innocence may still be seen 

In Childhood's presence. Who can gaze. 



-O 



28 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

Unmoved, upon that brow, serene, 
That agile form, those -witching ways. 

That playfulness of tiny mirth, 
That lively joy — and not confess 

That Innocence, still found on earth, 
May nestle in a child's caress ? 

And, therefore, when the painter's art 
"Would sketch her charms in pleasant view. 

Revealing the unpractised heart, — 
He always shows a child to you. 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 29 



COMPASSION. 

The squalid woman sat beside the bed ; 
And on that tattered bed lay, in repose 
Of death, her husband, who had died that 

night. 
The room was cumbered with old furniture 
And dirt. Reclined upon a broken chest 
AVas the sick daughter, munching a poor crust. 
The corpse — the widow, rocking on her seat, 
In reverie of anguish — the wan child — 
The poverty — sent sickness to my heart. — 
Another yet was there ; a neighbor-girl, 
Who came with right good will and kindliness 
To aid these sufferers. She the woman 

soothed. 
And washed and fed the child, and decently 
Prepared the clay for its last narrow house. 

) _— o 



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30 LATE AND EARLY POEMS 



THE HAPPY MAN. 

This man is freed from servile bands 
Of hope to rise, or tbar to fall ; 
Lord of himself, though not of lands ; 
And having nothing, yet hath all. 

Sir Henry Walton, 1590, 

The happy man is he, whose youth 
Is not in wasting pleasures spent ; 

In manhood strong, whose word of truth 
Still answers to its strict intent. 

Of humble wish, whose wish is met 
By kind response from Mercy's dower; 

"Whom disappointments ne'er can fret, 
And whom to harm, no ill hath power. 

"Who hath acquaintance ; yet a friend, 
In the true meaning of its name — 



) o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 31 

One who in absence will defend, — 
If needful, to his face will blame. 

Yet hath — all other charm above — 

That rose of sweet domestic bliss, 
Which, with sincere and modest love. 

Is, fresh and fragrant, bound with his ; — 

"Which sheds about his peaceful hearth 
Perfumes of Eden ; — light and life 

Of heaven do surely visit earth, 
"Where'er is*known the virtuous wife. 

"Who, hand in hand with him, from bloom 

Of youth, to age, will travel on — 
"With hearts and hopes where love hath room, 

Till — life's race o'er — the goal is won. 

With daughters who as olive plants 

Shall duly round his table be ; 
And sons to meet all grievous taunts, -~ 

His pride and crown continually. 
) 



o 

32 LATE AND EARLY POEMS, 

"Whose eye beyond the grave is fixed 
On the bright path by angels trod ; 

"Who goes to drink the chalice i^ixed 
Of wondrous joy, prepared by God. 



WHAT DOST THOU HERE? 

O, "WHY should care disturb thy breast. 

And anxious hopes invade ? 
These cares can never yield thee rest ; 

These brilliant hopes shall fade : 
Say, is this world to thee so dear ? 
Say, traveller, " What dost thou here ? " 

Why shouldst thou prize these fleeting joys, 
And build thy heaven on earth ? 

Ah, soon each false enjoyment cloys. 
And vain is empty mirth. 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 33 

Say, cau tliey bring true pleasure near ? 
Immortal, say, " What dost thou here ? " 

"Why shouldst thou deem thy lot unkind, 

When sorrow's boisterous flood 
Has closed around thy darkened mind. 

But brought thee near to God ? 
Is He not all ? Is heaven not dear ? 
Say, weeping soul, " What dost thou here ? " 



THE VIGIL. 



'Tis night. From beauteous Palestine 
The song and minstrelsy have flown. 

'Tis night. The priest forsakes the shrine, 
The holy temple sits alone. 

Gone is the boasting Pharisee. 
Tlie prayer and daily alms are o'er. 



34 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

The unbelieving Sadducee 

Offends the sacred court no more. 

Hushed are the strains that bade rejoice; 

Silent the weary and oppressed ; 
Lost is the maid and matron's voice, — 

For Solyma hath sunk to rest. 

But where is Jesus ? — "Where is He, 
The man afflicted and forlorn, — 

Co-equal with the Deity, 
The object of rebuke and scorn ? 

No follower of the Lord is here ; 

For him no eyes their vigils keep ; 
They that have mingled tear with tear, 

Forget their woes in careless sleep. 

Closed is each ear to human moan. 
Save His, who wakes to bitter care ; 

Hushed is each grief, but His alone 
"Who weeps for man in midnight prayer. 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 35 



THE WALK FROM BUFFALO. 

All waste I no sign of life : 
No moon, no stars, — 
But behold, a fire ! 

Thalaba the Destroyer. 

'Tis sweet to hear a brook, 'tis sweet 

To hear the Sabbath bell ; 
'Tis sweet to hear them both at once, 

Deep in a woo'.ly dell. 

S. T. Coleridge. 

I WALKED out once from Buffalo, ■ 
'Twas on a Sunday noon, — 

My friend and I, intending to 
Come back by rise of moon. 

I walked out on a Sunday — not 
To scorn my Maker's rule ; 

But holy time to keep, and see 
A village Sunday School. 



36 LATE AND EAKLY POEMS. 

The winds were silent, and the Lake 

Lay tranquil to the eye ; 
The sky was bright, the glad fields wore 

The livery of July. 

I had with me a pleasant guide, 

And we had pleasant talk 
About the things that lawfully 

May cheer a Sunday walk. 

About the bless6d Sabbath, which 
Brought Life to Death again, 

When Christ passed through the prison's 
door, 
Where He three days had Irtin. 

And of the better Sabbath, lit 

By no terrestrial sun ; 
Whose songs are from eternity, — 

Whose songs have just begun ! 



— o 

LATE AND EARLY POEjNIS. 37 

And thus we talked, and thus we walked 
Four miles, and something more ; 

And my friend stopped, and bade me look 
Along the sloping shore, 

And see the houses clustering, 

Like white doves, on a hill ; 
The tall hotel, the modest church, 

And farther on, the mill ; 

The gardens and their whitened pales ; 

The farms that lay without ; 
The cows, that idly chewed the cud ; 

The lambs, that frisked about. 

It was a very pleasant sight ; 

New York has many such ; 
It was a very pleasant sight ; 

My heart was gladdened much. 

I praised my Maker inwardly ; 
For all of goodness is 

O 



o 

38 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

His work. Dear Lord ! the city's wealth. 
The villages are His. 

" It is a pleasant sight," my friend 

Quoth, sadly, unto rae ; 
*' But ill is there, as presently 

I will relate to thee. 

*' It is a very gracious sight, — 

An outward goodly show ; 
But much unquietness is there. 

As thou, my friend, shalt know. 

" Thou seest yonder steeple shine ; 

It marks the house of God ; 
'Tis His, and yet by worshippers 

Its portals are not trod ! 

" The voice of music is not heard, 

In rising sweetness, there ; 
Nor is the knee, within its doors, 

Bowed lowly down in prayer. 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 39 

*' The man of God is heard not, now, 
Who there should plead with Heaven ; 

Nor pleads he there, with erring men, 
To seek their sin forgiven. 

" The babe is never, at that font, 

Presented, to be laved 
In water, token of the Bath 

By which it may be saved. 

*' The followers of Christ may ne'er 

Sit at the simple board, 
Where they, in tears of faith, behold 

Their slain and risen Lord. 

"The Holy Ghost, with heavenly wing, 

As at the Pentecost — 
Spreads out no wing of mercy there, 

O'ershadowing the lost. 

*' It is a fountain, shut and sealed ; 
And desolation dwells 



40 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 



Where healing streams once issued from 
Salvation's living -wells," 

" And whence such fearful doom ? " said I ; 

" Its cause pray tell to me ; " 
My friend replied, " Few steps remain ; 

I'll tell it unto thee. 

" In prayer we laid the corner-stone ; 

In hope we raised the wall ; 
Right glad to think that here should some 

Obey the gospel's call. 

" The house was done, the house by prayer 

"Was dedicated ; then 
We looked for one who faithfully 

God's Bread should break to men ; 

"A shepherd, that would watch for souls, 

Most kindly, yet most bold ; 
And likewise caring for the lambs 

That bleat about the fold. 



O- 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 41 

" It was a Christian minister 

God sent us, and he came 
To break the Bread of Life, and teach 

In his dear Master's name. 

" A shepherd, that would watch for men, 

And kind he was, yet bold ; 
And likewise cared he for the lambs 

That bleat about the fold. 

"And, SAveetly, from his lips the words 

Of healing mercy went ; 
And warning, — for his soul was stirred, 

And he was truly sent. 

" And early taught he, late he taught, 

As one that loved his toil ; 
As one whose blessed head was oft 

Anointed with fresh oil. 

" His flock, as cedars of the Lord, 
Flourished beneath his care ; 



42 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

And o'er the tender plants he watched, 
And wept in earnest prayer. 

** The Sunday School, beneath his eye, 

Grew like a pleasant vine ; 
And many of its precious ones 

Did unto Christ incline. 

" He comforted the sin-sick child. 

Who wept for hurt within ; 
And showed the trembling penitent 

The Gilead for his sin. 

*' And when some from the bed of death 
"Were called, and could not stay, 

They faltered out sweet prayers, that God 
Would bless his toil alway." 

"You weep," said I, "and I, perforce. 

Keep down my rising pain." 
" I will proceed, and for your sake," 

Said he, "my tears refrain. 

O 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 43 

" I will proceed, and tell to thee, 

How soon this fruitful field 
The devil entered, but to sow 

What only tares doth yield. 

" First, Christians leaned to indolence ; 

They went to hear the word ; 
But leaving prayer behind, 'twas nought 

But criticism heard. 

" Then faction rose, and jealousy, 
And secret whisperings came ; 

And serpent Slander set his tooth 
To blight our pastor's name. 

" The sinner waxed in unbelief. 
And brother hardened brother, — 

And met reproof by scoffing. — ' See ! 
How Christians love each other ! ' 

" Our minister, in secret, wept 
That this dear church again 



-O 



o 

44 LATE AND EAKLY POEMS. 

Might rise, a Pillar of the Truth,— 
But wept and strove in vain. 

" He left us ; and with him the last 

Glad hope our village left : 
And since, we've lain beneath the curse 

Of those of grace bereft. 

" The ways of Zion mourn with us ; 

None to her feasts will go ; 
And scoffers, stumbling at the church, 

Go down, in crowds, to Avoe. 

"The temple's light withdrawn — the shrine 

At home is also dim ; 
Few prayers to God — feAV praises rise 

From families to Him. 

*' One little star-beam from the clouds 
Looks out, our hearts to cheer, — 

The pleasant Sunday School remains ! 
The Sunday School is here ! 



O- 



LATE AXD EARLY POEMS. 45 

" Our children had on Sunday School 

Their young love strongly placed ; 
It lives, and thrives — an oasis 

Upon this desert waste ! 

" The mother left the hovise of God ; 

The father Him forgot ; 
But, praise to Christ ! though they could slight 

His love, the youth could not. 

*' The children would not be denied, — 

The Sunday School was theirs ! 
And they must go and learn their hymns, 

And say their simple prayers. 

" If erring mothers might cast ofl* 

Religion's priceless gem. 
They felt its worth, and this to lose 

Might never do for them. 

'' If sires no longer looked to God, 
In yonder house of prayer, 

) o 



o 

46 LATE AND EAllLY POEMS, 

Dear Lord ! the greater was tlie need 
That these Thy grace should share. 

'* So, every Sabbath, thus they met; 

Thou seest the school-house near ; — 
Denied God's house, that humble place 

To them, indeed, was dear. 

" Soon, one by one, the mothers came 

To see what 'twas about ; 
The tasks and hymns ; — the fathers too ; — 

And some came there to flout. 

" And presently the place was filled 

With old and with the young ; 
And when the teachers prayed, all prayed, — 

Sung when the children sung. 

** ' Yet 'twas not toorship ! ' so they said, — 

They could not well agree 
To meet with God, upon His Day, 

In Christian harmony. 



LATE AND EAllLY POEMS. 47 

" And still they met — and still they meet; 

And much of sad misrule 
Has fled, since parent and the child 

Go up to Sunday School. 

*' I've told my tale. Come ! dry your eyes, — 

Your eyes are almost dim, — 
And go with me, and see the school ; — 

I hear the children's hymn." 

The children's hymn ! — 'twas sweet to hear. 

The opened windows through ; 
I wept again, — for with the tones 

Strong voices mingled too. 

"We entered. — 'Twas a blessed scene ! 

The room was crowded, quite ; 
And each fair cherub-face had on 

A look of sweet delight. 

Delight, that in their hymn to God 
Each heart could here agree : 



-C 



48 LATE AND EAKLY POEMS. 

Delight, because they loved, their School : 
'Twas a blest company ! 

The serious parents knelt around ; 

In midst the children knelt ; 
I knelt with them, and as I prayed, 

His gracious presence felt. 

Prayer ended, some few words I spake 

For God, and did entreat 
As one whom they should see no more 

Till at the judgment seat ; — 

And counselled, that their only strife, 
Henceforth, for Heaven should be ; 

A numerous church, yet one — and keep 
The bonds of unity. 

And faltering grew my speech, till words 

My tears to me denied ; 
I bade farewell, for I must seek 

Ohio's silver tide. 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 49 

Next morn, on Erie's billow borne, 

I traced my western way ; 
Yet pondered on that Sunday School, 

That Star which tokened day. 

And when in toils engaged, the thought 

Of parents, mingling there, 
With children, in sweet worship, caused 

Involuntary prayer. 

That soon. His House, no longer sealed 

By discord's dreadful sin. 
Again might lift its doors, and let 

The King of Glory in. 

O, wondrous grace ! The glorious King 

Came shortly down, to see 
If any wept and vowed, henceforth, 

They would His servants be. 

To me the heavenly tidings came — 
My spirit did rejoice, 



o — 

50 LATE AND EARLY TOE 51 S. 

That those dear wanderers had returned, 
Called by a Sovereign Voice. 

And in His House, so desolate, 

Whose candle was so dim, 
Again was heard the solemn prayer, 

Again the holy hymn. 

And thus it was : The Sunday School, 

By child and parent trod, 
Each Sabbath, opened was to them, 

Though shut the House of God. 

And there they met ; and soon the hymn 
And soon the prayer had power 

To stir up kindly thoughts, and then 
It was a blessed hour ! 

It was a blessrd hour ! for soon 

The Holy Ghost, like dew. 
Came gently down, and youthful hearts 

"Were formed in Christ anew. 
O 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 51 

And children wept for sin, and gave 

Themselves to Christ away ; 
The parents ! — how could they do less, 

Than weep, repent, and pray ? 

It was a joyful season ! — broke 

For aye was Sin's misrule ; 
All mingled tears, and thanks, for grace 

Shown to the Sunday School. 

It was a Christian minister 

God sent to them again ; 
He spake the truth in tenderness, — 

His word was not in vain. 

The flock were humbled, — much they wept, 

And wondered for the grace 
Thus shown to them, who willingly 

Had shunned their Shepherd's face. 

And round the blessed messenger 

They gathered in their love ; 
O 



o o 

52 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

And He who binds the broken heart — 
The Everlasting Dove — 

Came down with healing in his wing ; 

To Christ his people were 
United, as unto the vine 

The clustering branches are. 

And now God's House, no longer sealed 

By discord's dreadful sin, 
Did lift its spacious doors, to let 

The King of Glory in ! 

I often think of Buffalo, 

And of my Sunday walk, — 
My pious friend — his holy zeal — 

Our profitable talk, — 

And of the pleasant village, saved 

From Satan's dire misrule ; 
And of God's instrument therein — 
His chosen Sunday School. 
1835. 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 53 



UNBELIEF. 

The wizard and the Pharisee, 
By Paul and Jesus taught, 
Repented ; but no Sadducee 
The same salvation sought. 
The Jordan to that leper sealed, 
Eternally unclean, 
He put aside the grace that healed 
A Saul and Magdalene. 

There's hope for one who's pandered all 

In thoughtlessness, to sin. 

That "Wisdom's monitory call 

The prodigal may win ; — 

But can we think the steely heart. 

Encased in unbelief, 

Will seek, in sweet repentance, part ? 

In Pardoning Love, relief ? 



-o 



54: LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

The pearl to buy, and never sell, 
Is traffic to endure ; 
With poverty and faith 'tis well; 
Sa?is faith, the rich is poor. 
Like him — Arabian story says — • 
The prince, who life had none, 
He sits amid his palaces 
Of stone, himself a stone. 

O moral man ! my spirit grieves 

For thee, to whom faith seems 

The cobweb of which fancy weaves 

Her unsubstantial dreams. 

O labyrinth-lost ! who scek'st the true, 

The living 'mid the dead — 

I've hope for thee — thou hast a clue, 

Though but a floating thread ! 



-o- 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 55 



WISDOM FROxM ALL. 

My bed itself is like the grave; 

My sheets the wiiulinj sheet ; 
My clothes the mould which I must have 

To cover me most meet. 

The Good Night. 

'Tis well for giddy man to pause 

Along his pilgrim way, 
And note what all things in the path 

In counsel to him say. 

For he may find a precept couched 

In every homely thing ; 
And household gear and nature's gifts 

May sure instruction bring. 

I wot the roof that shelters him, 
The table for his meat, 

^ 6 



o 

56 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 



The summer's shade the winter's hearth 
May rich discourse repeat. 

I guess, if he attentive ear 

Lend to the peeping flower, 
The germ may to his patience read 

Lessons of truth and power. 

I guess, if to the full ripe corn 

He for direction look, 
The tasselled corn may show him good 

Not found in Dulness' book. 

The small bird in its cunning nest, 

The honey-bee in flight, 
May teach him ; yea, the groping mole 

May give his darkness light. 

The cradle, where his cries were hushed, 

The rattle, bells, and ball, — 
Mute playthings of his infant hours, — 

Have to his age a call. 

o— ■ o 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 57 

The brook by which his boyhood played, 

The hill that seemed so high, 
Are homilies, when scans he them 

"With manhood's sobered eye. 

And so — if pride no hinderance give — 
Food for all thought, profound, 

The wise in heart may always pluck 
From things that lie around. 



o 

58 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 



NEVINS'S SELECT REMAINS. 
ON READING THE ABOVE. 

Tlioii soul of God's best earthly mould I 

Thou happy soul I and can it be 
That thesG 

Are all that must remain of thee ? 

Wordsworth. 

No ! — there are gems transcending far 

These glowing thoughts that stream and 
shine, 
Each like a sudden sparkling star 

Of radiance, on this page of thine ; 
Gems which I scan with fond delight, 

More precious deemed at each survey — 
Beautiful in affliction's night, 

Undimmed in pleasure's prosperous day. 

What are they ? Worth, which well I knew ; 
Thy single, comprehensive heart, 

O — O 



LATE AND EARLY POEJMS. 59 

Open to the discerning few, 

In whose warm pulse mankind had part ; 
Thy gentle spirit, foe to strife, 

That graced thy manhood, as thy youth ; 
Thy suavity in private life, 

Thy public boldness for the truth ; 

Thy piety and zeal for God, 

Humility, and holy care 
For souls ; submission to the rod, — 

Thy patience, watchfulness, and prayer ; — 
These, though confessed thy wisdom, wit, 

And eloquence of purest powers, 
Are thy Remains, where thou dost sit 

At Jesus' feet — would such were ours I 



o 

60 LATE AND EAKLY POEMS, 



THE FURNITURE. 



• our cradles (o our coffins are. 

Drummond of HawOiornden, 



Two items make, of Furniture, our store, 
And choicest luxury need crave no more. 
They're ample for the rich ; of them possessed, 
Is poverty with full abundance blest. 
The Cradle, where is rocked our earliest cry ; 
The Coffin, where in death's last sleep we lie ; 
And all between is superfluity, 
Unworthy, mortal ! such regards of thee. 
Fix, then, thine eye on these, and let thy heart 
Seek for its Furniture the better part. 
Such as the lowly Mary chose ; nor let 
Inferior things thy noble spirit fret. 
Thus on ! till thou and I possess the land 
Whose palaces are decked by God's own hand. 

o 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 61 



VERSES 

WRITTEN FOR THE ANNIVERSARY OP THE 
PHILADELPHIA EPISCOPAL RECORDER. 

If drums and bells and proud parade 

Announce to heaven a nation's day, 
And stars and stripes are all displayed 

For her, released from Britain's sway, — 
May tee not sing of victories gained 

By sovereign grace o'er sense and sin ? — 
Of WTeaths and realms, by Him obtained, 

Who wins alone, and still shall win ? 

On fashion's page, behold ! how blaze 
The gems of love, the wit of youth ! 
And may not here concentrate rays 
That freely flash from diamond Truth ? 
) O 



o o 

62 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

While Poetry her Aving cloth dip 

In other than Siloa's dews, 
Shall here the joyful heart and lip 

The song of gratitude refuse ? 

True, on our scroll, undying names 

Of royal robbers may not shine ; — 
The garland that ambition claims, 

To crown its crimes, we may not twine ; 
True, while their clarions sounded on. 

And men admired, we did not cease 
To shout the deeds " Good Will " hath done. 

To chant the angels' chorus, " Peace ! " 

Yet toe' re approved; and when, like dreams, 
Earth's gauds and gold are swept away, 

And battle's harp is hushed — our themes 
Shall live on lyres which God Avill play. 

Here pauseth, then, the Church, to raise 
Her Ebenezer high, and sing 

o 



LATE A X D E A K L Y P O E :\I S . 63 I 

Of all the strait and thorny ways 
Through which she 's journeyed to her King. 

She presses on ! Though clouds descend, 

And often veil her Pisgah now, 
Yet, strong in ancient Israel's Friend, 

Her feet shall find its topmost brow. 
Remembrance of the gall drank tip, 

And bitter herbs that earth hath given. 
She knows will sweeter spice the cup 

That crowns the bridal-board of heaven. 

Grace, Grace, aright to prompt the pen ! 

Grace ! skilful Grace ! aright to show 
How best may reach the hearts of men 

The polished shaft from Wisdom's bow. 
And pen and press, and tongue and powers. 

Impartial, true, and firm and free — 
Thy gifts, O God! — both we and ours 

Will consecrate again to Thee. 



o 

64 LATE AND EARLY POEMS 



THE INTERCESSION. 



" Well," said Mr. Raikes, " you will be ruined and lost, 
if you do nol begin to be a good girl ; and if you will not humble 
yourself, I must humble myself, and make a beginning' for you." 
He then knelt down before the child's mother, and putting his 
hands together, like a penitent offender, asked her forgiveness. 



She, in whose bosom no reproof 

"Woke grief, nor chastening kindled fears ; 
"Who, in defiance, stood aloof 

From counsel, kindness, prayers, and tears ; 

Deep penitence was taught to feel ; 

For pardon willingly to sue. 
When meek philanthropy and zeal 

Wrought what a mother failed to do. 

Peace is restored ; and he whose love 
Thus spake this troubled household whole 



-c 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 65 

Feels the rich peace of Heaven above 
Pass like a river o'er his soul. 

So shall it be with him, whose care 
Is to the weak and wandering shown ; 

The cruise, thus emptied for their share, 
Returns, unmeasured, for his own ! 



o 

66 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 



THE KITCHEN GARDEN IN A 
GRAVEYARD. 

Who would be buried in a city ? Who 
Would choose, life's labors done, to lay him 

down 
In the scant ground, assigned as resting-place, 
Where no grass grows ? Or in the sullen tomb. 
Loathsome, and sad, to be inurned ? or lodged 
'Neath solemn church, where in the dusky 

aisles 
Are rows of vaults, on whose dark di-ipping 

doors 
Never falls sunbeam ? Sympathy dwells not 
In crowded towns ; — there Avarice hath its 

reign ; — 
Avarice, that reckoneth the very worth 



c- 



o o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 67 

And nice proportion of each petty thing 
That can be coined to gold. "Why, I have seen, 
In this good city, a fair plot of earth — 
Two hundred years ago, by good men given, 
To this most sacred purpose consecrate — 
Where dust with dust might lie — a spot 
That opens to the sun, and shaded too 
By cheerful trees, that throw their shadow 

o'er 
The ancient graves — I've seen it girt with 

walls 
Towering to heaven, that seemed to covet e'en 
The niggard space allotted to the dead. 
And in one corner of this holy soil, 
"With thrift, a cunning Yankee had him made 
A kitchen garden ! Yes, I saw the graves 
Teeming with corn and greens. 'Twas sad to 

note 
The stalk o'ertop the monuments, and vines 

o 



68 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

Spreading and curling round the stones that 

Time 
Had spared for ages ; — spared to be thus 

mocked 
By calculating plodder, who would fain 
Eat vegetables gathered from the bones 
Of a dead father, and lick up the food 
Grown on a mother's dust! He that would 

gaze 
On such perversion, may himself betake 
To the King's Chapel burying-ground, and 

weep. 

Boston, July, 1839. 



-o- 



O Q 



LATE AND EAllLY POEMS. 69 



THE HOUSE OF REFUGE. 

Thou'st seen the boy in his bright glow 

Of spring-like promising ; 
Thovi'st seen him in Guilt's vortex low, 

An unnamed, loveless thing ; 
And thou hast, Levite-like, passed on, 

Or given the fruitless sigh 
To hopes that budded and were gone, 

To promises that die. 

Shouldst thou not, parent, weep o'er him i 

Thou hast a darling boy ! 
0, what if that pure ray were dim. 

Which lights up now thy joy ! 
Mother ! that closer to thy breast 

Pressest thy guileless son, 
O, what if thou shouldst deem her blest, 

The childless, stricken one ? 



70 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 



And he at that tribunal now, 

Was he not one to love ? 
Ay, on that early-troubled brow 

Sat meekness, like a dove ; 
And those sad eyes, in happiness. 

Gave once the laugh to care ; 
And that wan face wore cheerfulness, 

Which boyhood loves to wear. 

Is't fit that one so fair and young 

Should be cast out from men ? 
Be heedlessly to ruin flung. 

As though he ne'er had been ? 
Bethink thee, — Admonition's lip 

Might win him from that way ; 
And now, well warned, he would not sip 
The sweets where danger lay. 

O, save him ! — yes, I know thou wilt ; 
Thou canst not bid him dwell 

o 6 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 71 

Companion, of abandoned Guilt — 

Within the felon's cell. 
The Refuge ! angels bless the plan 

That, while it holds the rod, 
Restores a fallen man to man^ 

A wanderer to God. 



A PSALM OF SICKNESS. 



But if 1 must afflicted be, 

To suit some wise design, 
Then man my soul witli firm resolve 

To bear, and not repine. 

Robert Burns. 



Since this, my couch, a battle-field 

Appointed is to me. 
May I all armed with holiness 

And kindly patience be. 



72 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

"While noble spirits boldly make 

Strong onset on the foe, 
May I, in sufferance, draw the sword, 

And deal as sure a blow. 

If I shout not, where trump and drum 

The army's triumphs swell, 
In the soul's solitude I may 

Of equal victory tell. 

Not less may these, my passive pains, 

"With fortitude received. 
Speak honor to my Prince, than all 

High daring hath achieved. 

Not less my thankfulness for love, 
And sympathy's sweet voice. 

Than all their thunder-tones of praise, 
"When all the ranks rejoice. 

Then, Sickness, come ! and darting pains. 
That through this body fly — 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 73 

For final ease, I welcome you, — 
To live, I gladly die. 

With Him who leads the glorious fray, 

"Whose favor gives renown, 
The lowliest bearer of the cross. 

If true, shall share the crown. 



We saw thee in thy gladness, 

When peace sat on thy brow ; 
The solacer of sadness. 

The faithful friend wast thou. 
To thee, in bounteous measure, 

The things below, to love, 
Were given, and yet thy treasure 

Was safely lodged above. 



~o 



74 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

We saw thee test the power 

Of confidence divine. 
To charm life's checkered hour 

With gentleness, was thine. 
And still, 'twas thy endeavor 

To take the lowly seat, 
And sit with Mary, ever 

At thy Redeemer's feet. 

We stood where thou wert lying 

In suffering, and so deep 
The holy calm, that dying 

Was seemingly to sleep. 
To sleep f — O, no ! the portal 

Thus gently rent away — 
Thou unto life immortal 

Did'st wake in perfect day. 

We knew that while were glooming 
O'er thee the shades of night, 



o- 



LATE AXD EARLY POEMS. 75 

Thou saw'st, in vision blooming, 

The fields of living light. 
"We deemed — so sweetly given 

Was faith to cheer the heart, 
* Fareicell ! tee meet in heaven ' — 

'Twas little pain to part. 

The grave hath closed around thee, 

And hidden what was fair ; 
But yesterday, upon thee 

AVe wept, and left thee there. 
Left'. — No ! the grave holds never 

What we have loved in thee : 
The spirit that forever 

Searcheth eternity. 

Farewell ! farewell ! in glory, — 

With thee for aye begun, — 
If thought of earth's brief story 

Yet lingers, blessed one — 



p 

76 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 



Is't not the frequent glancing, 
The watch at gates of gold, 

That these, in bliss entrancing, 
Thy loved, thou mayst behold ? 



CHARLES RIVER. 



I DO remember thee, transparent stream ! 
And cause there is that I should often dwell 
Gratefully on the season loved so well — 
Glances of which, in fancy's witching dream, 
Come up in sober manhood — Childhood's 
hour! 
When, wasted with disease, my languid 

frame 
They plunged beneath thy waters. Newly 
came 



o- 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 77 

By oft-repeatecl trial, health and power 
To my unhopeful system. Strength of limb, 
And renovated life, didst thou restore 
To him so helpless and so dead before. 
For this, while I gaze on thee, unto Him 
Who scooped thy winding way, and fringed 

thy banks 
With drapery of green, I render joyful thanks. 



VERSES FOR A TEMPERANCE SOCIETY. 

* Bring garlands ! Time shall heedless slip 
In pleasure, while we wreaths entwine ; 

Bring goblets ! — as he flies, the lip 
We'll press unto the rosy wine. 

And we will laugh, for life's a dream, 
Its cares not worth a passing sigh ; 



■O 



78 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 



Be mirth and wine, to-day, our theme ; 
To-morrow we, perchance, may die ! " 

Such Avas the song the siren sung, 

Ten years ago, to thovightless men ; 
And such the fetters that she flung. 

Concealed in flowers, around them then. 
The song is hushed, or banished, now. 

To haunts by vile inebriates trod; 
To wine the wise no longer bow ; 

The chain is broke ; we thank thee, God ! 

Yes, ice are fhee ! — but Avho are these, 

The bloated, brutish, shackled crew. 
All night who tarry at the lees, 

With morning who the cup renew ? 
Ah ! they are meii, though sadly sold 

To death that stings beyond the grave ; 
Our brethren, — minds that thou didst mould, 

O God ! shall we not haste to save ? 



O- 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 79 



THE POWER AND LOVE OP CHRIST. 
A children's sabbath school 

HYMN IN THE COUNTRY. 

*' All hail the Power of Jesus' Name," 

In which the flag 's unfurled 
That beckons to exalted fame — 

The conquest of a world ! 
For on the pennon is revealed 

Of spear and nail the scar, — 
The stripes by which the sinner 's healed, 

And Mercy's guiding Star. 

All hail the Love of Jesus' Name, 

That, from a heavenly crown, 
Has stooped in blood, and tears, and shame. 

To bring salvation down ! 
Exchanging the immortal song 

For clamor's angry breath, — 



-O 



I LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

The homage of a radiant throng 
For scourgings, bonds, and death. 

All hail ! — for He has died to save ; 

Away with careless sleep ! 
A world suspended o'er the grave 

Should rouse, repent, and weep. 
Let children's alleluias break 

The dream of unbelief, — 
Hosannas from the cradle wake 

To Him who bore our grief ! 

The matchless Power of Jesus' Name, 

That sways with gentle rule — 
The wondrous Love, that sheds its flame 

"Within the Sabbath School, 
These sylvan scenes shall magnify ! 

On groves, fields, flowers, we call, 
Yes, on the ransomed earth, to fly 

And crown Him Lord of All ! 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 81 



HYMN 



WRITTEN FOR THE DEDICATION OF QUINCT SCHOOL- 
HOUSE. BOSTON, JUNE 26, 1848. 



The temple, by thy servants trod, 
Men consecrate to Thee, O God ! 
The aisle and altar, arch and shrine, 
Proud dome, and slender spire are Thine. 

The pomp of praise, the power of prayer, 
Ascend in sacred concert there ; 
The throb of joy, the tear of woe, 
In voices Thou art swift to know. 

No altars here are strown with flowers 
Of joy, flung down in Sabbath hours ; — 



-o 



82 LATE AXD EARLY POEMS. 

No sighs, from hearts that weep alone, 
Will leave these precincts for the throne. 

Yet holiness around us waits, 
As in the temple's hallowed gates ; 
For where in peace the children meet, 
The gracious Savior has His seat. 

Though Sire of us and all, yet He, 
An Infant, " slept on Mary's knee ; " 
And loves with youth to linger still, 
To bless their good and soothe their ill. 

The vital spark that came from Him, 
Upon our early sky so dim, 
He feeds and fans, and bids to shine 
With light meridian and divine. 

He wisdom's treasures can unfold, 
Who teachers taught when twelve years old ; 
He, with His truth, can make us strong. 
Who moves the starry worlds along. 



o- 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 83 

Then, Lord, as precepts here shall fall 
Like gentle dew, may we the call 
Obey, and find Thy Presence, thus, 
Not far from every one of us ! 



NEW YEAR THOUGHTS. 

Years many I've not seen ; — experience 
With me is small and observation brief ; — 
Yet have I lived much in a little space. 
My aged friend, a reverend patriarch, who 
Is in the ripeness of a green old age, 
And has known many changes, tells me thus : 
That time, so pregnant with important deeds. 
And big with matter of high moment, he 
Has never seen, as the twelve months which 
now 



o 

84 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

Are ebbing out their last. " Has not the 

flood 
Borne to the narrow house illustrious names ; 
Men famed for arts and arms, who but just 

now 
Were here, and now are mingled with Eter- 
nity ? 
Has it not wafted to our ear the cry 
Of the stern rider, who hath in his hand 
Arrows of death, and who in haste came on. 
And swept our dwellings ? Have not warlike 

sounds 
Come o'er us — not from Britain or from 

Gaul — 
But from the bands of brethren in our midst ; 
Telling that fathers against sons have risen, 
And brothers to meet brothers buckle on 
The exterminating sword, to lay in dust 
The temple reared by the old warriors' toil. 
And unto Freedom consecrate with blood ? " 
O ( 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEJIS. 85 



This, and much more to sadden thought — 

and yet 
My friend rejoices, and to see his joy 
I marvelled; — till he told me, that God 

reigns, 
And will protect his own. The Church is 

safe! 
Bears not that flood glad tidings of the men 
AYho, counting the rich sweets of home but 

nought 
Compared with duty, cast them freely off, 
And haste to spend themselves for Christ, 

abroad, 
And take the Missionary's weary lot. 
And lay their bones in missionary ground ? 
Hear we not, too, that God's unchanging Word 
Is reaching nations, soon to bless the world 
With life and light, of which the Shepherds' 

Star, 
That rose on Bethlehem, was but the sign ? 



O- 



o o 

6 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 



That He who built the earth, and channelled 

out 
Its highways, the broad streams, has brought 

to light 
Their sources, that His word may have free 

scope ? 
Yes, that to every continent be sent 
Heralds of mercy, — and the distant isles, 
Teeming with millions, unredeemed, may 

soon 
Be visited with Love ? — And hark ! what 

melody 
Already rises on the ear ! O, different, far, 
From cries of woe, with which the slave too 

long 
Has vexed high Heaven, is that blessed song 
Of Africa, released, heard in her thousand 

tents 
Of prayer, and gladdening all her blooming 

wastes ! 



O- 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 87 



And look we to our own beloved West — 
The West, whose mighty rivers and broad 

lands, 
Whose sons of energy, proclaim that here 
Is the fit stage of high and daring deed, 
Of mighty plans, of mighty conflict too. 
And to the combat, armed, the Church hath 

come ; 
Her panoply is sure, her hosts are out, 
And she hath her munitions gathered up. 
Behold them in the sanctuaries, where 
Flow the glad streams of life ! Behold them 

strown 
In her fair nurseries — the Sunday Schools 
That gem the prairies, and whose cheerful 

song 
Awakes the forest. See them in the halls 
Of holy Science, where the ready youth 
Are furnished to their work, and issue forth 
To tell of Jesus. Yes, the edifice of prayer, 
O — 



00 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

The Sunday School, the seminary, tell 
That soldiers of the Cross are rallying round 
Her standard, and the battle is begun. 
Which ceases not, till kingdoms of the earth 
Become the kingdoms of the risen Christ. 
The Church is safe ! Devils are unchained 
yet- 

The stormy world yet heaves ; men's lusts 

yet rage : 
Till Sin is vanquished, quite, it must be so. 
Roll on, impetuous tide ! thou canst not harm 
The Church, that, like a tower, lifts up on 

high 
Her everlasting walls. Built on the Rock, 
She looketh down, and seeth the troubled 

surge 
Dash idly at her feet. 

Cincinnati, January 1, 1833. 



LATE ANB EARLY POEMS. 



TO A FATHER. 

But lately, sire, you saw them stand, 

The four, on whom shone morning's sun, 
Where two assumed the silken band 

That bound two faithful hearts in one. 
But lately ! — short, indeed, the time ; 
Yet two, in youth and beauty's prime, 
Have dropped the garniture of night. 
And donned the robes of dazzling light. 

The first sweet seraph girded ^vings, 

And soared away from care and sin ; 
Her soul, unclogged with earthly things, 

Took heavenly joys and glories in. 
And often from the world of bliss. 
She bent celestial eyes on this, — 
To watch o'er those who shrined her love, 
And beckon them to bowers above. 
) O 



90 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

The next, a bride — a mother — fled 

From all that rendered being dear ; 
Nay, seek her not among the dead, — 

Your gatherefl treasures are not here. 
Yet, as from broken reeds you turn, 
The lesson by experience learn 
That he who nearest lives to God, 
In lowliest spirit takes the rod. 

"VVe may not ask why quickly fades 

The lovely flower, or sadly die 
The tints which, ere the evening shades. 
Like curtains fringe the western sky ; - 
The flowers we've planted in the tomb 
Shall flourish with perennial bloom ; 
The sunset tints, ere eve is born, 
Precede the saint's Immortal Morn. 



-O- 



O- 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 91 



COCHITUATE WATER IN BOSTON. 

youth's temperance song for the 25th of OC- 
TOBER, 1848, WHEN THE COCHITUATE WATER WAS 
INTRODUCED INTO BOSTON. 

Our fathers and mothers had ever enough 
Of wheat in the garner, or corn in the rough ; 
By Providence favored, their water was sure ; 
But 0, it was stinted and terribly poor ! 

To-day, our good citizens, long in the dumps, 
Have vowed to be free from the chain of the 

pumps, — 
To wash and be clean, unconfined to a gill, — 
Nor scold us in future for drinking our fill ! 

Thank God for the Lake that is fed by the 

spring ! 
Its torrents sweep by with the rush of a king ; 

O 



o 

92 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

Ay, Alcohol's conqueror merrily comes 
To the shout of hurrahs and the music of 
drums. 

Thank God for pure Water that dashes or 

drips, 
That thunders in volume or glides to the lips : 
Flow on, crystal blessing ! the children shall 

see 
Their emblem of beauty and freshness in thee. 

Flow on through our Capital's breadth and its 

length ! 
Bear vigor to age, and to infancy strength ; 
Quench flames of destruction that glare at 

midnight. 
Be the seal of salvation in Baptism's rite. 

With sound of the trumpet and cannon and 

bell 
Our voices, in chorus, shall sing of The Well, 

O 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 93 

Whose waters, unfailing, will rise to the brink, 
And ask, in sweet murmurs, a City to drink ! 



THE SYRO-PHCENICIAN. 

Said to Christ the pagan mother, 
" See my daughter wasting lie ; — 

Thou, to human ills a brother. 
Speak the mandate, lest she die." 

Jesus answered not a word ; 

Pity's pleading was unheard. 

Till, reminded of her sorrow. 
Cumbers He her hope with clogs ; — 

" Childi-en's bread we may not borrow, 
Casting it to Gentile dogs." 

Jesus at the wounded flings 

Arrows barbed with bitter stings. 



-o 



o 

94 LATE AND EARLY POEM I 



Nothing daunted by the trial, 
Then the noble woman spake : 

" Truth, O Lord, yet no denial ! 
Thus thy argument I break : — 

When the plenteous banquet comes, 

Dogs may always eat the crumbs." 

This was faith's surprising power ; — 
Jesus could the woe dispel. 

And in mercy's healing hour, 
Send that devil back to hell. 

So he did — but 'twas his part 

Thus to prove a trusting heart. 



AND EARLY POEMS. 95 



THOMAS GREEN FESSENDEN. 



On the appropriate marble mormment of this Poet, at Mount 
Auburn, is inscribed the following : — 

Thomas Green Fessenden, flietl Nov. 11, 1837, a^ed 65. 
This monument is erected by the Massachusetts Society ft)r promot- 
ing Agriculture — by the Horticultural Society of Massachusetts — 
and individuals, as a testimony of respect for the literary talents 
and acquirements of the deceased, and his untiring labors in pro- 
moting the objects of the above insii 



Mount Auburn, as a miser, gathers wealth 
From the world's heap, not artfully, by stealth, 
But shamelessly and open. Sits he now 
Alone in winter's drapery, his brow 
Circled by solemn trees, and contemplates 
His gains, and those to come with which the 

Fates 
Shall swell his hoard, already rich with store, 
We knew not how to part with. Yet one more 

) ^ o 



96 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

Is added. Moral excellence and wit, 
Talents not idly hid, worth that would sit 
Gracefully on a king, the crown adorning, — 
These have been stolen ; this violence hath our 

mourning. 
Yet, Plunderer ! there's hidden in thy womb 
Nought but the casket, which, at trump of 

doom, 
Thou — saith the oracle of God — shalt render. 
The jewel lodged above — who'll tell its 

splendor ! 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 97 

REVOLUTIONS. 
THE SANDWICH ISLANDS — FKANCE. 



' Tidings, my lord the k!n.? ! " 

Cushi to Davids 



Tidings from the Sea ! its isles 

Centuries begirt in night, 
Burnished by the day-spring's smiles, 

Shine, the lovely pearls of light. 

Tidings ! tidings ! ocean's King, 
Who the islands in his hand 

Taketh, as a little thing. 
Speaks to sea and speaks to land. 

Startled from his ancient prey, 
Flies the vampyre, bird of blood ; 



98 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

Pe-le, vanquished, hastes to pay 
Holocausts alone to God. 

Tidings ! tidings ! fast and far, 
Winds and waters urge them on, 

From the occidental star, 
To the chambers of the sun. 

Weepers o'er the slain, rejoice, 
And new vigor strongly draw. 

Ye of Heaven-beseeching voice ; — 
Now the pagan waits his law. 

Where is gladness, God ! to view 
Mau-i sitting at thy feet ? 

Temple domes of 0-a-hu, 
Swelling over Satan's seat ? 

Broke the tabu's guilty power — 
Stilled the sacrificial drum — 

Christendom ! Jehovah's hour 
Seest thou, and art thou dumb ? 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 99 

Tidings ! Gaul awakes at length ; 

In her thousands burns the flame, — 
And an injured realm, in strength, 

Rising, treads its foes to shame. 

Tidings ! tidings ! Freedom's cry 
Breaks forever Bourbon's trance ; 

And her broad tri-color, high, 
Streams above thy lilies, France ! 

Hymns to Orleans' dawning glory ! 

"Where the fleur-de-lis hath set ! 
Marble for the martyr's story ! 

Civic crowns for Lafayette ! 

Tidings thunder o'er the wave, 
" Despotism goads no more ! " 

And the story of the brave 
Rocks the transatlantic shore. 

Speak to France our noble coasts, 
Where congratulation waits, — 



-O 



o 

100 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

And a shout, the shout of hosts, 
Rings through these United States ! 

Yet, O God, when sceptres fall, 
Empires down to dust are hurled — 

Thou wilt triumph — Lord of All, 
Throned above a ruined world. 

1830. 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 101 



THE aUEEN IN THE DISTILLERY. 

The Glasgow Herald announces that the Q,ueen, while in Scot- 
land, visited the great distillery of Messrs. Begg.* 

I WONDER English bayonets 

Flash not their wrath on high and low, 
"When She, who rules their lightning, sets 

Her foot in fortress of a foe ; — 
A darker direr foe than vailed 

Its standard at the British call, 
"When Bonaparte's planet paled — 

"When fell down flat the Chinese wall. 



• " Every public house and gin-shop rings with the story of the 
Q,ueen's visit to the Lochnager Distillery; but no scribe has yet 
published all the facts of that visit. Each of the royal family was 
ofl'ered a glass of spirits. When Prince Albert was about to take 
a second mouthful, the dueen, taking hold of his arm, asked, 
' Do you know what you are drinking, Albert ? ' On which he 
laid down the ' accursed thing.' When the Prince of Wales 



102 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

I wonder, greatly, if not quails 

The mother's heart, and trembles lip, 
"When, merrily, the Prince of Wales 

Of fiery whiskey takes a sip ; — 
Or if, by wizard second-sight, 

She sees no horrid vision pass 
Of kingdoms crumbling in a night. 

Through princely Albert's second glass. 

I wonder if Victoria's peep 

At this audacious despot, will 
Show her what million subjects weep 

When Traffic arms to take and kill ; — 
And, if that vision may be seen. 

The noble Temperance flag unfurled, — 

tasted llie whiskey, he instantly sputtered it out of his mouth as 
if he had drank poison, emphatically inquiring', ' What's that, 
mamma?' — while no persuafion could induce the Princess Royal 
to taste the liquid fire. The dueen put the glass to her lips. But 
after all, the friend of morality and virtue will ever look upon this 
visit as an error iu judgment committed by the (iueen." — British 
Banner, 1848. 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 103 

Its followers marshalled by a Queen, 
For Caledonia and the world ! 

I wonder if my native land — 

A sleeping giantess — will act ; 
And bid republics, kingdoms, stand 

For Truth as one ; from vice intact ! 
She may, she should; — my friend, she will, 

When every freeman wakes " To Try; " 
Though feeble, yet to crush the Still 

Depends on such as you and I ! 



-O 



104 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 



LAST WORDS OF CHRIST. 

Last words of Christ! There are none 

such to him 
Who has accepted Christ. Whate'er his lot 

may be, 
Whate'er his trials, toil, and sorrowing 
On these low grounds, where pilgrims stay 

a while. 
He hears in all the animating voice 
Of the Redeemer, and it says to him : 
" Fear not ! for when thou passest through 

the fire, 
I, even I, am with thee." Yes, in death, 
Amid the tumult of the body's pain, 
That Voice is heard, telling the sufferer 
Of comfortings and of supportings, through 
Jordan's cold waters ; and its mellow tones 
O 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 105 

Linger until the last, then break in all 
The ravishing, exulting airs of heaven. 

Yet to the lost, there are, indeed, last words 
Of Christ. The lost will ever think on these, 
And in the ages of eternity 
Will sharpened recollection call them up — 
Depart, ye cursed ! What last words are these, 
To dwell upon forever ! — to recall 
The melting melancholy tones of pity, 
Mixed with severity of God, in which 
The Son of Man pronounced eternal woe ! 



-O 



106 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 



THE DEAF AND DUMB. 

The Deaf and Dumb ! — Tell me -what heart 
Of human mould, beats not with some 

Kind throb, in which Heaven shares a part, 
Of feeling for the Deaf and Dumb ? 

The Deaf and Dumb ! "We ask no voice 
Of winning Eloquence, to plead 

In their behalf, to bid rejoice 
These innocents with pity's meed. 

The Deaf and Dumb alone shall speak 
In language that prompt nature knows ; — 

Shall bless you ; yes, while down the cheek 
Of tenderness the warm tear flows. 

Theu-s is a voiceless phrase, unknown 
To grosser sense — the glad repeat 



O- 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 107 

Of cherubs, round the shining throne, 
Hymning their love — is not more sweet. 

The eye, through which the soul is seen, 
The bosom pulse of hope and fear, 

The lamp of love, whose ray, serene, 
Kindles communion, holy, dear. 

Are theirs. — Sweet ones ! we pity not 
Your fate ; of bliss the real sum 

Is given to consecrate the lot 
Of Innocence, — the Deaf and Dumb ! 



o 

108 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 



THE THORN OF LIFE. 

TVe see, in life's wide wilderness, 
Some plants of fair and varied mien ; 

Love's rose springs here, while there, dis- 
tress 
The nightshade rank is seen. 

With choicest care we cull the flowers 

All redolent of fragrant morn ; 
But while their beauty charms the eye, 

"We feel the secret thorn. 

And who is free from sorrow's thorn ? — 
Joy's sparkling beverage dost thou sip ? 

Thou mayest ; but soon the poisonous dreg 
Shall blast thy quivering lip. 

Thy morning, gay, perhaps, hath shone. 
But hope too quickly plumed for flight ; 



6- 



LATE AND EAKLY POEMS. 109 

At noon, the stern destroyer came, 
"With disappointment's blight. 

Hast friends ? Thou hast ; yet the last sun 
That saw thy bliss, hath seen the dart 

Whose cruel fang shall pierce thy friend, 
And wring thy lonely heart. 

Thy -wife, thy offspring — whence that sigh ? 

Too well I trace the secret tear, — 
For thou, who wife and offspring knew, 

Hast wept upon their bier. 

Love hath its chill, and Mirth the sigh ; 

And who may boast a cloudless morn ? 
Mortal ! that cull'st the flowers of life 

Think not to shun the thorn. 



o 

110 LATE AND EAKLY POEMS. 



DEPARTURE OF THE ISRAELITES. 

ON SEEING A PICTURE REPRE- 
SENTING THE ABOVE. 

I GAZE, and gaze, and willingly confess 

The Pencil's triumph. Breathe not, daring 
Muse ! 
Nor language give to trooping thoughts that 
press 
For utterance. And methinks thou canst 

not choose 
But to be silent ; dreamingly to lose 
Thyself in witchery of the olden times, 
As Egypt's awful beauty, richly seen 
In morn's gray softness, rises, and the chimes 
Of feet, departing, ring — with joyous cries 

between. 
"While on the mighty caravan, the sheen 
Of royalty, the century-telling pyramid, 



O 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. Ill 

And obelisk, and gods that frown in stone — 
Dumb in the tumult — gazing — Fancy, chid. 
Retires, to wonder and to weep alone. 

Yet it is noble thus to contemplate 
Almighty power. With what a majesty 

Is God encompassed, while are seen the hate 
Of wily priest, and -vvrath of tyranny. 

Impotent to forbid, when He ordains ! 
No implements of war, nor chariots armed 
Move the proud monarch. The same Voice 
that calmed 

Chaos to order, tells of One who reigns, — 
By whom kings reign ; and once more hath 
that voice 

Spoken to Pharaoh — and the first-born, dead, 

Have also spoken — " Let the people go ! " 
In songs of glad deliverance they rejoice, 

And by the rod of miracles forth led, 

Depart ; that pagan Egypt may Jehovah know. 



112 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 



LOVE. 

Yes, life is but a waste, 

A cheerless pathway, where 
No healthy fruit allures the taste, 
No flowerets balm the air, 
If Love, 
The wild rose, ne'er luxuriates there. 

Love is a guide, when lorn 

The wanderer is astray 
'Mid dangers, and no star of dawn 
To smile upon his way ; 
'Tis Love 
Burns on the cloud, the gem of day. 

Along Affliction's coast, 

Hard by Despair's grim shoal. 
She shines on him, the tempest-tost. 



O- 



-o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 113 

The lighthouse of the soul ; 
And guides 
Where storms wake not nor oceans roll. 

thou Inspirer ! who 

Didst lull my infancy, 
And half life's rugged journey through 
Hast still attended me, 
I consecrate 
My all to thee, — to only thee ! 

"When pleasure's mellow note 

Allured me to her bowers, 
Tliou bad'st kind dreams of fancy float 
Along the white-winged hours ; 
Thy smile 
Did strew existence' path with flowers. 

The lightning crossed my way, 
Thou earnest, and in its scath 



114 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

I but discerned the tempered ray 
Of Love around my path, — 
A pillar given 
"When all was tempest, night, and wrath. 

Be nigh at the dread hour 
Of nature's utmost need, 
"When unknown shadowy worlds appear, 
And unreal scenes recede. 

O, then the spirit cheer, 
And bid it on its passage speed ! 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 115 



COMMON ORIGIN OF RELIGION. 

" Amonj the Greeks, during their nocturnal mysteries, youth- 
ful virETiiis, having baskets full of flowers, with serpents in them, 
ran about all night, calling on tlie name of our first mother, • Eva I 
Eva I ' " 

For, as I passed by and beheld your devotions, I found an altar 
with this inscription. To the Unknown Gi>d. Whom, therefore, 
ye ignorantly worship, him declare I unto you. — Paul on Mars' 
Hill. 

By Hebrew wanderers bade to know, 

Instructed they of Heaven — 
The origin of human woe, 

The curse so early given — 
The Greek — such single glimmering shown — 

"Wove truth with fabling rite : 
A sunbeam, flashing from the throne 

Upon his pagan night. 



i- 



Yet not to his mythology 
"Was sacred lore confined — 



o- 



116 LATE AND EARLY POEMS, 



The print of true Religion, we 

On other altars find. 
Wherever zeal had temples built 

To crown the idol-hill, 
Where flowers were laid, or blood was spilt, 

Were seen her tokens still. 

The Druid in his granite cave, 

The Egyptian in his hall, 
He to his Fetish god a slav€. 

And he in Veeshnoo's thrall — 
Each brought the firstling of his store ; 

Each, pressed by sense of sin, 
Must, darkly, Deity adore, 

For dimmed was light within. 

And where night wrapped the heathen shrines, 
His fealty to " The Unknow^n " 

The pagan Avrote in living lines 
Upon his altar stone ; 



-o 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 117 

To God, for wlionii misguided men 

Through ages vainly felt ; 
To God, unseen, yet worshipped, when 

In ignorance they knelt. 

O, that which points above the stars 
Wherever man has trod — 
To Him who shuts night, and unbars 

The morn — the very God, — 
And spells in beams above the sun 

The name of Deity — 
Is spirit, which can never shun 

Its Immortality. 

If Christendom, made rich indeed 
With knowledge of the Cross, 

To use it wisely gives not heed, 
How measureless her loss ! 

If stripes are his, who never saw 
Unfolded Mercy's plan. 



118 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

How sorely visiteth the law 
Enlightened, guilty man ! 

In the distribution of bread and wine at this high festival, the 
orthodox Spaniards, who first came into the country, saw a 
striking resemblance to the Christian communion, as in the prac- 
tice of confession and loenance, which, in a most irregular form, 
indeed, seems to have been used by the Peruvians, they discerned 
a coincidence with another of the sacraments of the Church. 
One is astonished to find so close a resemblance between the 
in tiiuiion of the American Indian, the ancient Roman, and ihe 
modern Catholic! It is reasonable to refer such casual points 
of resemblance to the general constitution of man, and the neces- 
sities of his moral nature. — Prescott's IJlttory of the Con- 
quest of Peru. 



Q 

LATE AND EAELY POEMS. 119 



VERSES WRITTEN IN THE COMMERCIAL 
PRESSURE OF 1837. 

O, SEEK not comfort from the Wine 

In this thy bitter grief; 
The mantling juices of the vine 

Can yield thee no relief. 
Nor seek, in thy extreme distress, 

Oblivion from the bowl ; 
Thou shalt not there remember less 

Thy agony of soul. 

O, seek not, in this troubled hour, 

The Gambler^s cursed den ; 
For once within his baleful power, 

And farewell virtue then ! 
Nor to the unholy feverish heat 

That gathers there, incline. 



120 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

If thou wouldst not the burning beat 
Of a maddened pulse were thine. 

O, look not in gay Pleasure's lair 

In such a time as this ; 
The blaze, the beauty, song, are there, 

But not consoling bliss. 
Nor in the ball-room's witching wiles 

Nor place of glee have part, 
For there thine artificial smiles 

May veil a broken heart. 

Thy hopes are dark. — Across the land 

God hath a shadow thrown ; — 
Yet who'll rebuke the righteous Hand 

That only smites His own ? 
From Him come judgments on our path, 

From Him this grievous blow ; 
Yet rains not from his stores of wrath 

Man's self-infiicted woe. 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 121 

Submit ! — there's sweetness in the thought 

That He in love doth chide ; 
For avarice He this ill hath wrought, 

Perhaps for foolish pride. 
Yet this, and more that Heaven can bring, 

'Twere easier to bear. 
Than that which from remorse doth spring — 

The soul's unmixed despair ! 



BEFORE ME LIES THE TROUBLOUS DEEP. 

Before me lies the troublous deep. 
Life's ocean, heaved by many a storm ; 

Behind me, hushed, the billows sleep, 
Whose calm, wild winds no more deform. 

I tempted Childhood's sparkling wave. 
And careless toyed with danger nigh ; 



122 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

I trod upon the gaping grave, 
And smiled at fear, yet knew not why. 

In Youth I sought a brighter path. 
Yet paused to gaze at Childhood's beam ; 

Fled was the angry lightning's scath, 
For peaceful is Love's early dream. 

What dangers press on Manhood's prow ! 

His bark is tossed by every gale, 
The shoals of folly thicken now. 

And perils rise and cares assail : 

Yet Manhood past — how slight appear 
The terrors strown on Manhood's way ! 

Night's cowering phantoms disappear, 
And bright to memory shines the day. 

Before me lies the troublous deep, 
The sea that angry waves deform ; 

Yet Faith shall bid the billow sleep, 
And Hope shall soar above the storm. 



LATE AND EAKLT POEMS. 123 



THE BIBLE FORBIDDEN. 

The Bible, free as mnds of heaven, 
This age to all the world has given. 
To all the Word of Life ? Yes ! save 
The hordes that wear the name of Slave, 
And wear his bonds, and feel the rod. 
For this, wilt thou not judge, O God ? 
"Will not thy vengeance put to shame 
The followers of the equal cross, 
"Who glory in the Christian's name. 
Yet count a brother's soul as dross ? 



-O 



124 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 



THE FORGOTTEN. 

' Of the delusions inciilent to ill heallh, old age, or mental aber- 
ration, many are wild and grotesque. Of (he former kind is an in- 
stance which we find recorded, that led to die sell-destniciion of a 
fomalc in Silesia. She had reached the age of one hundred years. 
All her family luiviiig successively been conveyed to the tomb, she 
labored under the idea that God had forgotten to call her out of the 
world ! " 

To BE, and not to be ! to live, anti ne'er to die ! 

How terrible an endless life below ! 
To be by Heaven forgotten, while rolls by 
Century after century ; and when 
The weary sojourner would gladly yield 
To long infirmity and fly the field, 
And humbly ask, blest boon, to perish — then 

To hear, upon his hope, stern answer, No ! 
Friend after friend to see departing ; deep 

Yawn the coy grave beneath, but not for him. 
Over dead friends and lovely ones to weep — 



-O 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 125 



The beautiful, the young, the lithe of limb ; 
Yet he to linger still ; ay, watch yon sun 
Wax old and die, yet live — the sad forgotten 
one! 



THOMAS SHEPARD. 

" That gratious, sweete, and soule-ravishinsf minister, in whose 
soale tlie Lord shed abroad his love so abundantly, that thousands 
have cause to blesse God for him, even at this very day, who are 
the seale of his ministrey, and hee a man of a thousand, indued 
with abundance of true saving knowledge for himselfe and others ; 
founder of the Congregational Church of Christ in Cambridge, died 
August 25, 1649, and was honourably buried there at Cambridge 
in New England." 

Shepard — a worthy of the olden time. 
Skilled in the heavenly craft, and well in- 
clined 
To serve his Lord with substance, body, 
mind — 



-o 



I 126 



LATE AND EARLY POEM I 



Passed from Old England to this virgin clime, 
Where he might freely breathe the breath of 

Life; 
And left behind the regions vexed with 

strife, 
To plant in peace the nursery that should rear 
A flock for heaven. — Shepard was pilgrim 

here ! 
And this fair spot he fertilized with tears ; 
And these green landscapes witnessed his 

retreat 
For wrestling prayer. Albeit, two hundred 

years 
On things that die have deeply writ their 

name, 
"While on Mount Zion beauteous are his feet : — 
Posterity revives and cherishes his fame. 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 127 



THE BANDS OF PRAYER. 

Men meet as strangers, and as strangers part, 
In pleasure, or in mysteries of the mart 

Engaged. In politics they mix, and deem, 
In all, their comrades cold, and separate. 

Each in the other owning no esteem. 
The world, indeed, is but a barren state ! 
The plants of kindliness, exotic there. 

Grow languidly and perish. Yet we see 
Revealed from heaven, though not in heaven 

known — 
For songs and not requests are rife before the 

throne — 
A tie that binds Christ's brotherhood. They 
share. 

Herein initiated — though they be 



128 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

Strangers, yet thus well known — the willing 
knee ; 
And heart they bind to heart, in fellowship of 
Prayer. 



LAUNCH OF THE SHIP OF THE LINE 
PENNSYLVANIA, AT PHILADELPHIA. 

1837. 

Leap from thy cradle to the seas, 

Ship of lofty name ! 
And toss upon thy native breeze 

The stars and stripes of fame ! 
And bear thy thunders o'er the deep, 

Where vaunting navies ride ! — 
Thou hast a nation's gems to keep — 

Her honor and her pride. 



O- 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 129 

O, sacred is the covenant made 

"With thee and us to-day ; — 
None from the compact shrinks afraid, 

No traitor utters, " Nay ! " — 
"We pledge our fervent love, and thou 

Thy glorious ribs of oak. 
Alive with men who cannot bov/ 

To kings, nor kiss the yoke ! 

Speed lightnings o'er the Carib Sea, 

"Which deeds of hell deform ; 
Then off! — for hands are spread to thee 

"\^'"here Afric's robbers swarm. 
Go ! lie upon the ^gean's breast, 

Where sparkle emerald isles ; 
Go ! seek the pirate Suliote's nest, 

And spoil his cruel wiles. 

And keep, where sail the merchant ships, 
Stern watch on their highway. 



. — o 

130 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

And promptly through thine iron lips, 

"When urged, our tribute pay ; 
Yes, show thy bristling teeth of power, 

Wherever tyrants bind 
In pride of their OAvn little hour, 

A freeborn noble mind. 

Spread out those ample wings of thine ! — 

"While crime doth govern men, 
'Tis fit such bulwark of the brine 

Should leave the shores of Penn ; 
For hid within thy giant strength 

Are germs of welcome Peace, 
And such as thou will cause at length 

Man's feverish strifes to cease. 

From every vale and mountain-crag, 

"Word of thy beauty 's passed ; 
And we are proud that Freedom's flag 

Streams from thy taper mast, — 



o- 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 131 



Assured that in thy prowess, thou 

For her wilt win renown, 
"Whose sons can die, but know not how 

To strike that pennon down. 



TO THE NEW YEAR. 

Thou new-born Year ! thou span yet unde- 
fined, 
Portion of time unknown, I fain would greet 
Thy opening dawn with salutation kind. 
And would, reluctant, fleeting guest! en- 
treat 
"With us sojourning, yet a longer stay ; 
Or wilt thou, like thy parent, haste away ? 

Thou new-born Year ! why should the empty 
smile 
O „__-___^ O 



o 

132 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

Of foolish riot usher in thy name ? 
And why should dissipation e'er beguile 

The sons of men, when Reason would pro- 
claim 
"Life is a vapor ; hastening Time recedes ; 
Eternity is near with all its deeds ! " 

What art thou, passing shadow, but the note 
That speaks, though dumb, existence' sol- 
emn knell ? 
Thy warning strains, though they unheeded 
float 
Along our passage, to the traveller tell : 
"Depart, poor pilgrim; leave this vale, un- 
blessed ; 
Arise, ye giddy ; this is not your rest." 

Vision of future days, fair opening Year ! 
Thou evanescent ! soon, alas, thy flight 
Shall be the theme, for thou wilt disappear ; 

O 



o o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 133 

Thou too wilt slumber in the iron night 
Of by-past ages, — on the hoary scroll 
Be chronicled, whose page none may unroll. 

Child of the past, — herald of years to come, 
I greet thy entrance, for thou tellest me 

In accent kind that soon my reckoned sum 
Of months will be fulfilled, and I shall be 

No more a wanderer in a sunless way. 

Where disappointment droops beneath the 
world's cold ray. 



o- 



o 

134 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 



THE LATE REV. J. P., OF PHILADELPHIA. 

There are many who fall on the fields of their 

fame, 
The warriors of Christ, that on earth have a 

name 
And a place in the glorious records on high, 
Who live in applause and in triumph who die, 
And sleep where their marbles to passengers 

tell 
How bravely they battled, how nobly they fell ; 
Yet none stir the depths of such feeling in me. 
As rise, holy man ! when I think upon thee. 

There are scribes, well instructed, that rightly 

divide 
The word, and choice leaders to teach and to 

guide ; 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 135 

There are those in the service, like cedars, 

how tall 
And strong for the Lord, like the veteran 

Paul! 
With lips whence the music persuasively 

flows 
Of a mind that with fervor and eloquence 

glows, — 
And yet who would buy their renown with one 

tear 
That comes from the heart of the lowliest 

here ? 

I cannot forget, when but few or none cared 
For a soul in the web of sin's artifice snared, 
How kindly thou laboredst to free me — and 

now. 
Though a robe 's on thy form and a light on 

thy brow. 
And glory, where yesterday lingered decay, 



O- 



136 LATE AND EARLY POEM I 



And wings plumed around thee that bear thee 

away 
From sickness and sorrow — I cannot but 

sigh 
That one needed to live should so speedily 

die. 

I knew thee to love thee ; but long ere I 

knew 
Thy faithfulness, goodness, and fellowship 

true, 
Thou didst follow my step while a stranger to 

both 
Thy God and thyself, and to holiness loath, — 
Didst watch me and warn me, and show me 

the way 
Whence youth, just as heedless, unguardedly 

stray — 
Nor wearied, till peace, driven far by the rod, 
I sought as one earnest, and found it in God. 
O ■ O 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 137 

There are hearts — perhaps hundreds — where 

thou wast enshrined, 
That will bleed at this blow — to the Giver 

resigned, — 
There are thousands whom thou to the Shep- 
herd hast led, 
And comforted, chidden, wept over, and fed ; 
And some, thy first fruits, have their toils 

ended first, 
And some, in bereavement, kneel here by thy 

dust. 
And a flock thou hast blest, and by whom 

thou wert blest, 
A widow ! — the fatherless ! — tears tell the 

rest. 

"We muse on this trial, stern, grievous, and 

strange. 
And ask — while despondingly viewing the 

change 



138 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

Made where the death-angel has swept his 

wide wing — 
" Art angry, O Father ? " — Complainings we 

bring — 
"We plead in our trouble, " "Wilt Thou, too, 

depart ! 
The righteous man dies and none lay it to 

heart: " — 
Yet answer is given — " Away to his home 
I've taken him only from evil to come." 

"From evil to come!" — If the strength of 

Thy host 
Is broke, shall Thy cause not be counted as lost ? 
Yet no ! when the faithful is called from the 

field. 
We'll hear but Thy Voice, " Cease from man 

as your shield ! " 
And learning from him — who his sword has 

laid down 
• O 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 139 



To take a new harp and receive a glad crown— 
"We'll watch for souls wandering, and lead 

them above, 
And spend and be spent, like Thy servant, in 

love. 

" I heard," uttered John, " and a voice spake 

from heaven. 
Blessed hence are the dead unto whom it is 

given 
To die in the Lord ! " O, the light is not dim, 
That beams in such blessedness now upon him, 
"Who, for trials through which he has sorrow- 
ing passed, 
Has honor and glory and beauty at last, — 
And for draughts often mingled with worm- 
wood below. 
The streams that from fountains of happiness 
flow. 
1837. 

o o 



140 LATE AND EARLY POEMS, 



SONG OF THE BIBLE. 

The Bible speaks, that has spoken before, 
Though men have heard in scorn ; 

It speaks to-day, as it spake of yore, 
To all of Adam born ; — 

" I am speaking yet, I am speaking yet, 

As I spake long years ago ; 
And I bring down light to those that sit 

In the shadows of death below. 

" The powers of Sin, they have leagued with 
men, 

To hinder my warning cry ; 
But in their dismay they have trembled, when 

My voice was lifted high. 

" The infidel rose in his zeal, unblest ; 
False philosophy deemed me a sham ; 



o- 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 141 

And its leader wore upon his crest, 
* Ecrasez Vinfame.^ 

" To his phace has the scoffing infidel gone, 

With Shaftesbury and Voltaire ; 
I am speaking yet, — his wail goes on, — 

His wail of anguish — lohere! 

" I've broken the iron slumber of years 
Which the Papacy cast around me ; 

And I witness his tottering step and fears 
Whose traditions would have bound me. 

" I am speaking yet to Earth in sin 

With more than mortal lungs ; 
Already to her nations, in 

A hundred and fifty tongues. 

*' I'm found in the Eastern clime, where fast 

The Hindu holds his chain ; 
And I'm seen in the North as bread that's cast 

Abroad, to be gathered again. 

-O 



o 

142 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

" I go down in the ships and cheer the men 

That traverse the mighty sea ; 
I go with the mission bands, and then 

The Pagan is glad for me. 

" To the dying fool who has bartered heaven, 
I speak, as he gasps for breath, 

Of gold that unto rust is given. 
When it cannot save from death. 

" To the poor and despised, yet rich in faith, 

"Whose love to Christ is much, 
I speak, and my word of promise saith 

That blessed for aye are such. 

" To the proud I say, ' Let those that think 
They stand, look, lest they fall,' — 

But the trembling soul that fears to sink, 
I raise above them all. 

" To those that in the Tempter's hour 
Have seen his dreadful shape, 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 143 

I've said, * For this, my sovereign power 
Shall find some sure escape.* 

" I am speaking yet, I am speaking yet, — 

The secrets I've made known 
Have caused the wretch his grief to forget, 

And the king to forget his throne. 

" One word of mine has planted the thorn 

In the sinner's downy bed, — 
And cheered the dreams of the just, forlorn, 

"When a dungeon wrapt his head. 

*' I am speaking yet, — my words of Life 

Drop an immortal balm 
For mortals, grappling in the strife 

"With Death's omnipotent arm. 

" I soothe the father when distress 
Wrings damps out on his brow, — 

* Leave with thy God thy fatherless, 
Thy widow with him now.' 



o 

144 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

" I speak to the fainting mother, when 

Her last look tries to dwell 
On all she loves and leaves ; and then 

How sweet is her farewell ! 

*' I speak as the innocent babe goes home, 
When it feels the icy touch, — 

* O, fear not, little one ! to come ; 
His kingdom is of such.' 

" I am speaking yet ! nor shall return 

My message, void in time ; 
Nor when the last day's sun shall burn, 

Or the stars' last hymn shall chime. 

" I am speaking yet, — and I shall speak 
When the heavens pass away ; 

And my foes will in their agony seek 
To hide from that fearful Day! " 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 145 



ANNUAL DAY OF PRAYER FOR COL- 
LEGES. 

THE LAST THURSDAY OF FEBRUARY. 

MOTHER, in those college walls 

Thou hast a precious son, — 
A banqueter in Learning's halls, 

And yet by want undone. 
He sits like Dives at the board 

Where jewelled vessels shine ; — 
His dainties from the rarest hoard, — 

From eldest crj'pts the wine. 

"What boots it that his table groans 
With loads of classic wheat ? 

As well feast craving mind with stones, 
As only on this meat. 

What boots it on his robes are starred 
The gems and beaten gold, 



O- 



10 



o 

146 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

If not to him may be unbarred 
The gates of wealth, untold ? — 

If not to him is oped the lid 

In ■which the soul may look, 
And gather wisdom, never hid 

Within the Sibyl's book ? 
O, why is Science racked to give 

Her buried stores to man, 
"While Truth, which teaches how to live, 

Is put beneath the ban ? 

That morn he left thee, far to roam 

On life's uncertain way. 
Far from a mother — far from home, 

What couldst thou do but pray ? 
Ay, prostrate on thy closet floor, 

What didst thou do but weep, 
And plead that God, for evermore, 

Thy student-boy would keep ? 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 147 

Thou knewest the tossing ocean-world 

But little heeds his lot, 
Who to its storms has sail unfurled, 

And recks the danger not. 
Thou knewest that many a noble heart, 

As proud and glad as he, — 
The light of home, — has Folly quenched 

In that tumultuous sea. 

Ah ! little didst thou deem of feet 

That ever Ivu-k within 
The Muse's most secure retreat, 

To draw her sons to sin ; — 
Or of the outward twining flower, 

Or pearl within the cup. 
That wooes them at the unguarded hour 

To drink the poison up. 

To prayer ! to prayer ! — a teeming cloud 
Is on the land this hour ; 



148 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

'Twill rise to heaven, and deep, not loud, 
Will be the plenteous shower. 

Wilt thou not haste with eager joy 
And in its blessings share ? 

Wilt thou not for thy perilled boy 
Entreat ? — To prayer ! To prayer ! 

Go ! for on moments of rich grace 

The world's high issues rest ; — 
Not only he may find the place 

Of mercy and be blest, 
But thousands, through the mighty word 

Thy herald-son will bear, 
Shall live for aye ! — Art thou not stirred ? 

To prayer ! this hour to prayer ! 



o o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 149 



GOLD. 

WRITTEN WHILE THE CALIFORNIA GOLD FEVER 
WAS RAGING IN THE UNITED STATES 1849. 

For California ! and the streams 
Whose tides roll over sands of gold : — 

For riches, mocking Fancy's dreams, 
Go, empty hands, and spirits bold ! 

Yes, go, clay-worshippers ! and take 
This royal path to reach your god ; 

"What struggling beams around you break ! 
What splendors point to his abode ! 

Go from the shop, the quay, the field ; 

From loom and anvil, axe and awl ; 
Let Law, Religion, Physic, yield 

Their teachers at the earnest call. 



O- 



150 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

Go, ye Pizarros ! stout and true, — 

Ye cavaliers to plunder sold ; 
Go seek and sack a fresh Peru ! 

Go ravish virgin realms of Gold I 

Ay, ye are ready for the hunt ! 

Ye've aptly learned, on Mexic soil, 
In cruel siege and battle's brunt, 

To scent and take the shining spoil. 

And Heaven, for such tremendous wrong, 
Has launched no bolt of wrath untold, — 

But in its power and justice strong, 
Allures ye to your doom with Gold ! 

Pity ! the conquest is acquired 

Without one laurel snatched from Fame ; 
No armies routed ; cities fired ; 

No valiant deed of blood or shame. 

Yet onward ! onward ! — room is left 
For wrong and passion ; truth is sold ; 



o _ 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 151 

And such as ye, perchance, bereft 

Of heart, may wade through crime for Gold. 

Seek Panama's resounding strand, 
"Where fainting wretches, on the way. 

Yearn to devour the promised land, 
And wait, and curse the long delay.* 

Onward for Gold ! — what coward feels 
One parting pang ? we give him scorn ! 

Onward for Gold ! a hundred keels 
Chafe ocean, eager for the " Horn." 

Yes, march, ye braves ! though drum and fife 

Are silent, and no starry fold 
Shall wrap the corse that falls in strife 

With Sickness, Anguish, Death — for Gold ! 



• Six thousand gold-hunters are at this moment said to be 
congregated in Panama, waiting for passages to San Prancisco. 
Several, who left the United States with ample funds, have 
returned home itripped of every dollar. January, 1849. 



o 

152 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

From our free air, from home and heaven, 
All lost to pure contentment's bliss — 

Rejecting jewels, kindly given, 

Of Friendship's smile, and Woman's kiss- 

Go, slaves of pelf ! where tell wan lips, 
And eyes that gleam with hate and sin. 

The storms without that rack the ships 
Are calms to those that rage within ! 

Sail on ! sail on ! — the Southern Cross 
Is mirrored in Pacific's wave ; — 

For life or death, for gain or loss, 
For golden ingots, or a grave ! 

By instinct, disembowel earth, — 
Like angels, once to treason sold, — 

Who, led by Satan, lost their birth. 
And, falling, tore up hell for Gold ! * 



O : O 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 153 

Dig deep ! trust none ! beware of men ! 

Those treasure-pits receive the dead ; 
Their depths shut out the curious ken ; — 

Who digs for Gold may kill for Bread ! * 



• A Gold- Dig ger''s Mercy. — The following incident of gold- 
digging on the Sacramento is related by a correspondent of the 
New York Courier and Enquirer at Monterey : " Provisions are 
very scarce, and to obtain them many murders have been com- 
milted, or the purchase of them, at exorbitant prices, has indirectly, 
but eventually, led to murder. One story, relating to an aftair of 
this kind, may deserve a place here. A man, who had what is 
called a good hole, had been digging incessantly for two days, 
when he was accosted by one carrying a bucket containing food 
of some hind. The whole of this the digger purchased for about 
one hundred dollars, in virgin gold; and, while devouring il, the 
man who had sold the provisions took possession of t.he hole. 
Alter finishing his repast, the gold-hunter ordered the fellow out; 
but, on his posiiively refusing to come, knocked his brains out with 
a pickaxe, took from his pockets the virgin gold that had pur- 
cliased a meal, and then, dragging the body out of the hole, 
himself continued the digging. This, I believe, is really true — 
just as I have told it." 

IinmoraliUj of Gold-Digs;ers. — The Washington Glolie has 
another interesting letter from San Francisco, confirming the 
motley, desperate, and careless character of those collected in the 
California gold region. One passage ui the letter we have read 
with much regret, which is : " Every man engaged in hunting 



o o 

154 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

Long days of weary woe and want 

Await ye in the dismal mine ; 
"Where Penury, Fear, and Famine, gaunt, 

Flit round you as ye Hope resign.* 



g-old, and every one that visits the s^old region, g'oes armed to the 
teeth. Scenes of violence occur; tliere is uo security for life and 
property," &c. 

Rapine and Murder in California. — PTiva.le letters received 
here from the gold mines of California are rather discouraa:ing to 
those about starting for that region. Tliey confirm the former 
reports as to the abundance of gold, but at the same time state 
that those who are in possession of the precious ore, in any quan- 
tities, are marked, and often soon after disappear. Even some 
that have attached themselves to trains leaving the mines have 
been robbed, and trains on their way there have been, plun- 
dered. — Boston Traveller. 

Is it strange, when the temptation is so great, that the robber 
and the assassin should be abroad among the mour.tains? Many 
roblierics, and some murders, are known already to have occurred ; 
but little attention is excited by these events where all are in the 
eager pursuit of wealth. No one can conjecture the extent of 
these outrages, for living witnesses are not at hand, and "dead 
men tell no tales." The strong and firm hand of government 
must be promptly extended to save the country from the most 
revolting acts of violence. — Ibid. 

' Gold-Hunting in Old Times. — Washington Irving's "Co- 
lumbus," says the New York Observer, may be profitably looked 

, _ — 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 155 

Still proving how reverts frail man 
To childhood, while the world grows old ; 

And that to interrupt God's plan 
Is in the power of sordid Gold ! 



into at the present times. The following passage is just in sea- 
son : "Before relating tlie return of Columbus to Hispaniola, it 
is proper to notice some of the principal occurrences in iliat island, 
which look place under the government of Ovando. A great 
crowd of adventurers, of various ranks, had thronged his fleet — 
eager speculators, credulous dreamers, and broken-down gentlemen 
of desperate fortunes ; all expecting to enrich themselves suddenly, 
ill an island where gold was to be picked up from the surface of the 
soil, or gathered from the mountain brooks. They had scarcely 
landetl, says Las Casas, who accompanied the expedition, when 
thi'y all harried otT to the mines, which were about eight leagues' 
distance. The roads swarmed like ant-hills, with adventurers 
of all classes. Every one had his knapsack stored with biscuit or 
flour, and his mining implements on his shoulders. Those hidal- 
gos, or gentlemen, who had no servants to c:\rry their burdens, 
bore them on their own backs, and lucky %vas he who had a liorse 
for the journey ; he would be able to bring back the greater load 
of treasure. They ajl set out in high spirits, eager who should 
first read) the golden land, thinking they had liut to arrive at the 
mines, and coll ct riches. ' For they fancied,' says Las Casas, 
• the gold was lo be gathered as easily and readily as fruit from 
the tp'es.' When they arrived, however, they discovered, to their 
dismay, that it was necessary to dig painfully into the bowels of 



15 6 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

Then home, ye glutted few, return ! 

Pale spectres, o'er your gains to sigh, — 
Ye thousands, in whose bosoms burn 

Keen disappointment's fires — to die ! 



the earth, a labor to which most of them had never been accus- 
tomed ; that it required experience and sagacity to detect the 
veins of ore ; that in fact the whole process of mining was ex- 
ceedingly toilsome, demanding vast patience, much experience, 
and after all being full of uncertainty. They digged eagerly for 
a time, but found no ore. They grew hungry, threw by their 
implements, sat down to cat, and then returned to work. It was 
all in vain. ' Their labor,' says Las Casas, ' gave them a keen 
appetite and quick digestion, but no gold. They soon consumed 
their provisions, exhausted their patience, cursed their infatuation, 
and in eight days set oB' drearily on their return, along the roads 
they had lately trod so exnUingly. They arrived at San Do- 
mingo, without an ounce of gold, half famished, downcast, and 
despairing. Such is too often the case ot those who ignorantly 
engage in mining; of all speculations the most brilliant, promis- 
ing, and fallacious.' 

" Poverty soon fell upon these misguided men. They exhausted 
the little property they had brought from Spain. Alany suffered 
extremely from hunger, and were obliged to exchange even their 
apparel for bread. Some form.ed connections with the old set- 
tlers of the island, but the greater part were like men lost and 
bewildered, and just awakened from a dream. The miseries of (he 
mind, as usual, heightened, the sufl'criugs of the body. Some 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 157 



wasted away and died broken-hearted ; others were luirried otl' by 
rag-ing fevers, so that there soon perished upwards of a thousand 
men." 

Oold in California. — Mr. Benton, in his late speech in the 
Senate on the California Bill, speaking of tlie locations of gold 
washings in the gold regions, says, — 

" These washings are called in Spanish placer, from the Latin 
placere, to please ; because it is a pleasing thing to find the 
shining gold under one's feet. But it is a transient pleasure. 
There is no fee simple in it; there is not even a life estate in it — 
not even a lease for a year, a month, a week, or a day. The 
pleasure is soon gone. Exhausted placers now exist in New 
Mexico, formerly yielding much, now some twenty-five or fifty 
cents a day, and only pursued by the poorest Mexicans. Regular 
mining has followed there, and is now yielding considerable quan- 
tities. These washings of California are marvellously rich ; for we 
have to believe what is certified to us by so many witnesses ; b\it 
they are not the richest that ever were seen. Far from it. Those 
of Brazil, in the mountains back of Rio Janeiro, in the time of Lord 
Anson's voyage, say one hundred years ago, were far richer; and 
yet they have been exhausted so long that all memory of them is 
lost, and their history only lives in old books. Two millions 
sterling — ten millions of dollars — were annually sent to Europe, 
for years, from these washings. They were worked by slaves, who, 
to secure their fidelity and industry, were usually allowed by their 
masters all the proceeds of the day above a given amount ; and in 
that way many slaves became rich, purchased their free<lom, and 
th?n bought slaves of their own, lived in splendor and opulence, 
and laid the foundation of families. Yet these washings are ex- 
hausted, time out of mind ; and so will be those of California ; and 
the sooner the better. I am a friend to a gold currency, but not to 



-o 



158 LATE AND EARLY TOE 1,1 S. 



gold mining. That is a pursuit which the experience of nations 
sliows to be both impoverishing and demoraliiing to a nation," — 
Traveller, Jan. 22, 1819. 

"How alarmed Jefferson and Washington wonld be to see their 
republic grown as large as Europe, triumphant in wars of aggres- 
sion, and now poisoned by possessing mines like those of ener- 
vated Peru or despotic Russia 1 " — London Spectator. 

[ I hope these verses will not be taken as an expression of con- 
tempt for, or even indifference to. Money. I would not be under- 
stood as joining in the fanatical cry of " Away with it ! " which 
argues always affectation or folly. Money is a blessing, equally 
wiih other indispens.ible gifts of God. The absorbing love of it, 
so congenial to utter selfishness, is what I rather design to rebuke. 
I am not quite prepared even to dispute the truth of the "convic- 
tion " hinted at in the annexed paragraph ! " Let it not surprise 
you if 1 name, as a first illiistralion, the general devotion ot our 
race to Money. This passion for Money is allowed to be a sordid 
passion,— one that is ranked in the least generous and most 
selfish of mankind; and yet a conviction has always been felt, 
that it must have its heat in the most central fires and divinest 
BfTinities of our natiire. Thus the poet calls it the auri sacra 
fames, — t:\cra, as being a curse, and that in the divine life of the 
race." — Buslinsll's Phi Beta Kapjia Oration, 1818.] 



-o- 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 1-59 



THE BOSTON BOY. 

During the delivery of the medals at the Franklin School, one 
of the youthful candidates, on receiving this symbol of approba- 
tion, overcome by his emotion, burst into tears. 

I CANNOT choose but think this noble lad 
Hath something great within him. This full 

tide, 
That floAvs so freely, tells me that a spring 
Of generous feeling wells up in his breast. 
And these are precious tears ! — a bosom 

glad — 
A heart alive to just ambition's pride — 
A spirit, that in eager strife will fling 
Away all obstacles, are here confessed. 
Go on ! — the path is open ; 'tis the same 
In which trod Franklin and our Wash- 
ington. 



160 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

"What hinders, that in future day thrj name 
Is with theirs named — undying honors 
won — 
And thou, a parent's triumph, a republic's 

joy, 
Who now — the modest victor — art a Boston 
Boy! 

1837. 



THE PASTOR'S RETURN. 

"VVe, Lord, who on this Zion dwell, 
A stranger's voice have lately known ; 

"We followed, for the stranger well 
Allured our footsteps to the throne. 

And Thou, these Sabbaths, hast thy flock 
Most kindly guarded, guided, kept ; 



LATE AND EAE.LY POEMS. 161 

And we, in comfort, near the Rock 

Have drawn, whose shadow on us slept. 

To-day, of him — who long has led 
The little ones, and borne the weak, 

And this whole fold refreshed and fed 
In pastures, and from springs — we speak, 

"With praise to thee, O Lord, for bliss 
That kindles heart and lip again ; 

Our earnest prayer for him I — to this 
Each heart and lip respond, " Amen ! " 

1842, 



162 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 



THE SUNDAY SCHOOL. 

Behold the groups that cluster there ! 
Children, -within the place of prayer. 
Think of the future harvest's power, 
Whose seed is planted in this hour, — 
The Bible, Library-book, the word 
Of love, by which the heart is stirred ; — 
The many precepts, kindly given, 
The many hopes that deAvs of heaven 
May fall, refreshing, on the soil. 
And crown, with large increase, the toil. 
Think of the mass of mind thus trained, 
And say, is not a victory gained 
O'er Error, Bigotry, and Sin ? 
"With arms like these, shall we not win ? 
Think, too, of those who, from their class, 
As pupils, have been called to pass 



-o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 163 

To higher seats, where "Wisdom dwells, — 
To pastures, where the cool deep wells 
Of living waters gush, and He, 
The Shepherd, dwells eternally ! 



TRUE SYMPATHY. 



Is IT to spurn at Sorrow's child, 

"When bitter woes assail, 
"While pressed by want, in accents mild, 

It sobs its artless tale ? 

Is it to mock at heart-felt grief. 
That shrinks beneath the storm ? 

"With chilling frown withhold relief, 
And say, " Be full — be warm ? " 



— o 

164 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

O, no ! the sympathetic voice 

Ne'er bade the poor depart ; 
It bids the weeping soul rejoice, — 

It cheers the broken heart. 

1819. 



CALLED AWAY. 



The mother, peacefully, had passed away — 
As quiet starlight gently fades away 
At rosy dawn — to bowers of sunny joy. 
Her infant languished with us here a while. 
Wept for its parent, turned away and smiled. 
And gladly followed. One sweet girl was left ; 
The mother's image. 'Twas her pleasant task, 
"With childhood's prattle, to beguile the grief 
That rested on her sire ; and she would climb 
O 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 165 

Upon his knee and look into his face, 
A7ul ask for Mother ; then would kiss away 
The tear that came, unbidden, at the word ; 
And he was comforted. 

On her sick bed 
She spoke of her dear brother, — asking oft 
If she might see him. "Fes, mid xohen I die 
And yo to heaven, ivon'f I, dear Papa ? " 
She said her hymn, and lisped her little prayer ; 
'Twas the last time — for ere another sun 
Sank down into the west, she sweetly sank 
Into His arms who said, their angels ever 
Behold his Father's face in heaven. 

And who, 
Thinking of such, — a mother and her babes. 
Safe gathered from life's evils, — free from 

sin — 
Dwelling with Jesus ; — who for stic/i can 

mourn ? 



o 

166 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 



ON VIEWING TRUMBULL'S PAINTING OF 
THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 

To free from chains a groaning land, 
Inspired by Right and Valor's flame, 

On Freedom's scroll the patriot band 
Inscribed Columbia's deathless fame. 

Now ceased the clarion of war, 

A nation blooms on Slavery's grave ; 

Her starry banner floats afar, 
Her conquering navy ploughs the wave. 

"While robed in peace, true valor's meed, 
Columbia walks in generous pride, — 

She ne'er forgets the glorious deed 
That stemmed and turned the haughty tide. 



-O 



o o 

LATE AND EARLY POi;mS. 167 

Though envious Time's unsparing hand 
Has bowed in dust the warrior's plume, — 

Though slumber now the gallant band, 
Where living laurel decks their tomb ; — 

The Pencil speaks — again they breathe ! 

We see their veteran forms again ; 
We see each patriot bosom heave, 

As heaved it on the battle-plain. 

And wrapt in awe, we catch the flame 
That kindled by Oppression's spoil, 

And swear no tyrant foot shall claim 
A rest on Freedom's native soil. 

1818. 



o- 



168 LATE AND EARLY PO: 



SIMEON'S PROPHECY. 

The Temple of the Lord is still ; 

Forsaken are the golden shrines ; 
Upon Moriah's holy hill 

The day-beam of Salvation shines. 
And hark ! a voice along her halls 

Is heard, in strains of prophecy : 
"Awake, Jerusalem — thy walls 

Rebuild, thy glory draweth nigh. 

" Now, Israel, shall thy tumults cease ; 

Up, Judah, and with songs adore ; 
My waiting spirit ! go in peace : 

Thou hast beheld — what need'st thou 
more ? " 
*Tis Inspiration's awful voice, 

The utterance of fleeing breath ; 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 169 

The spirit lingering to rejoice, 
When hovering at the gates of death. 

Yes, favored one, 'tis thine to trace 

His lineaments who dwelt of old ; 
Those withered arms, in strong embrace, 

The Hope of Israel enfold. 
I see thee, man of wintry hairs ! 

I see the lightning of thine eye ; 
I tremble, while its glance declares 

The mystic Godhead passes by. 

Thou holy Seer ! what visions rise, 

In long perspective, on thy soul ; 
Ages of glory meet thine eyes. 

And unborn years before thee roll. 
Who would not die as thou didst die. 

Where Light and Life attend the bed ? 
Who would not wish, like thee, to lie 

Where blessings crown the faithful dead ? 



170 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 



THE DEPARTED WIFE. 

And thou hast fled, fair sph-it! — True, the 

boon 
Of thy perfections was too rich for earth : — 
Yet we lament that worth so rare, thus soon, 
Thus suddenly, is blighted. — Yes, the birth, 
So promising, of thy mild graces, proves 
For heaven. — The tomb conceals our fondest 

hope. 
Yet in the heart's retirement, spirit ! thou 
Still liv'st. There contemplative fancy loves 
Still to behold thee — with the unbounded 

scope 
Of chastened love, there she beholds thee 

now. 

Thou livest ; — Faith discerns thee 'mid the 
choir 

o c 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 171 



That minister above. Thy robes of white — 
Emblem of the sweet purity that loved to 

reign 
"Within thy bosom — tell that thou art one 
Of the celestial sisterhood, whose lyre 
Wakes the first song in heaven. The gems 

of light 
Sparkle around thee, while thou tread'st yon 

plain 
Of bliss, ineffable. O, who would shun 
The invitation to his place on high, 
"Were it — like thee, to live — like thee, to die ? 
Thou'rt absent, blessed one!— but Memory 

will 
Imbody thee, and in his vigils, oft, 
Shalt thou to thy bereaved, minister, 
And calm his midnight anguish. — In the 

dream 
Of tenderness wilt thou address him. Soft 
And soothing, holy one ! will be the stir 

o o 



172 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

Of recollections in his widowed heart ; the 

theme 
Shall solace him, for all of loveliness 
That once adorned thee is around thee still. 
O, sweet to him who treads life's wilder- 
ness, 
A pilgrim-mourner, drooping and alone — 
Art thou, kind Memory ! thou canst gently 

pour 
The balm of Gilead on the wounded : -^thou 
Canst chase the anguish from the sufferer's 

brow, 
And bring to mind endearments known be- 
fore. 
Thou call'st thy vision! — she, who late had 

flown, 
Returns again, and 'tis to heal the heart. 
And she is near, and now a balmy smile 
She gives to her beloved, and a while 
He, happy, feels not the soul-rankling dart. 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 173 

Peace to the dead ! — Beneath yon grassy 

mound, 
In slumber, thou reclinest ; and so deep, 
So calm and holy is thy rest, profound. 
We would not, dare not break, sweet one ! 

thy sleep. 
There rest ! — and we will bid the wild flower 

grow 
Upon thee, and her green will Summer throw 
Around thy bed. Nor shall the wintry storm, 
Careering o'er thee, thy fair couch deform. 
There rest, till reeling Nature's cries disclose 
Hope's morn to them that peacefully repose. 

1823. 



-O- 



174 LATE AND EAKLY POEMS 



THE CHILDREN'S RETREAT. 

'Tis well to gather from your street 

The children of neglect, 
And teach them, in this fair Retreat, 

To win deserved respect ; 
And train the twig, so early bent 

To vice, by culture kind ; 
And look for fruit of your intent, — 

The tree aright inclined. 

'Tis well to snatch from Penury's den 

Its hapless child, and show 
Humanity is godlike, when 

It softens human woe. 
'Tis well — for ye of Misery's tomb 

Have burst the iron bars, 
And called up slumbering Mind, to bloom 

Above the fading stars ! 



O- 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 175 

I marked each youthful eye, and saw 

High purpose kindle there ; 
I saw the future statesman, or 

One who shall venture where 
The wise, in elder years, have stood ; 

Or him, whose honors won 
Shall throne his name among the Good, 

His country's choicest son. 

Or, moulded here in honest ways, 

And led in ductile youth — 
One who shall fearless go in praise 

And battle for the Truth ; 
Or go to prove how surely Peace 

Is genial to the soil. 
When skill and care insure increase 

To crown the honest toil. 

I read each look of intellect. 
And Heaven I thanked again. 



O- 



176 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

That from lost hopes and households 
■wrecked, 

Such treasures yet remain ; 
And prayed that those who, still in tears, 

Tread paths of want and sin — 
The thousands of unripened years — • 

Might here be garnered in. 

1837. 



TO THE IDOLATER. 

Idolater in darkness ! we of light 
Do humbly Christendom's neglect confess 
Of her dear Lord's last message ; and we bless 
Jesus, who spares, nor frowns us into night 
For this our sin, as righteously he might. 
We hear, at length, your lamentable cry, 



6- 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 177 

And the Church rises to your help. She 
arms 
Her young men. Look ! the kindling eye, 
That brightens at the note of war's alarms, 
The sinewy souls for whom stern Toil has 
charms. 
The eager tread of those that go to die, 
Tell of the men, who, counting earth as 
dross. 
For you will gladly yield their latest sigh, 
So God have glory — Hell have utter loss. 



12 



178 LATE AND EARLY POEMS, 



IS IT NOT A LITTLE ONE? 

GENESIS, Xix. 20. 

Of all the varied cheats in life, 
To which misguided mortals run, 

There's none with sorer evils rife, 
Than " Is it not a little one ? " 

"When strong allurement leads astraj'', 
How fair the web by flattery spun ! 

The ready opiate smooths the way, 
Sure *' Is it not a little one ? " 

Lean Avarice, to itself unkind, 
Would even life's best blessings shun, 

And hoarding pelf deceive the mind 
With " Is it not a little one ? " 



-O 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 179 

The youth, deceived in Folly's maze, 
Health, fame, and fortune, all undone, 

Too late the whispering cheat betrays, 
Of " Is it not a little one ? " 

Intemperance, murdering life and soul, 
"Would fain reflection's moment shun ; 

And says, — replenishing the bowl, — 
Sure " Is it not a little one ? " 

Beguiled by Love's seductive strain, 
The thoughtless maiden is undone, 

"While listening to the falsehood, vain, 
Of " Is it not a little one ? " 

Beware, fond youth ! its sad control ; 

This fatal source of ruin shun ; 
Keflect in time, nor cheat the soul 

With " Is it not a little one ? " 

1819. 



o 

180 LATE AND EARLY POEMS, 



THE MOTPIER OP LYMAN,* 

MISSIONARY WHO WAS KILLED BY THE 
NATIVES OF SUMATRA, I IV 1835. 

Poets, emulous of glory, 
Love to tell the hero's story, — 
Love to wake the martial cry, 
" On, to death or victory ! " 
Then, in panegyric verse, 
Proud Ambition's deeds rehearse. 



• The mother of Lyman, said Rev. Dr. Humphrey, was a neig-h- 
bor of his own, nnd some time before the news arrived of the catas- 
trophe among' the Battas, siie had lost her husband, who died sud- 
denly, and left her in charge of a large family. This widowed 
mother had scarcely returned from pourinof out lier tears over the 
grave of her protector and guide, when the intelligence arrived. 
It had been brought first to himself, and he had been, in conse- 
quence, requested to go and make to her the dreadful i 



o- 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 181 

Passing few^ the peaceful lays 
Strung to lowly Virtue's praise ; 
Passingyew, the plaudits given 
To the deeds that breathe of heaven. 
Yet, above the praise of men, 
Looked our Lyman's mother, when 
Tidings from the heathen came, 
That another glorious name. 
That another noble soul 
Lives upon the martyr's scroll, — 
Garnered safely — warfare done — 
And that hero is her son ! 



" I trembled," said Dr. H., " as I went, and I said to myself. How 
will this mother, a widow in her weeds, with the tears hardly dry 
upon her cheek from the sudden loss of her husband, how will she, 
how can she receive this intelligence I I went and communicated 
it in the best way I could. The tears flowed freely, it is true ; but 
O, wh.it liglit shone through those tears ! Almost as soon as she 
was able to say any thing, She exclaimed, ' 1 bless God who gave 
me such a son to go to the heathen, and 1 never felt so strongly as 
1 do at this moment, the desire that some other of my sons may be- 
come missionaries also, and may go and leach the truths of the Bible 
to those savage men, who have drunk the blood of my son.' " 



o- 



182 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

Yes, her spirit's thought had birth 

Elsewhere, than with things of earth. 

For earth never could impart 

So magnanimous a heart. 

Pagan page may never tell 

Of a votary, who so Avell 

Sacrifice of self could make, 

For the God of Worship's sake. 

Self-devotion, holy, true, 

Which the Homan never knew, — 

Self-devotion, all unpriced. 

Which adorns the men of Christ, — 

Self-devotion stayed her so. 

When the sufferer in her woe — 

Widowed yesterday — first knew 

She was written childless, too. 

Grief flows freely as she hears. 

Yet a light shines through those tears ; 

And her praises unto God — 



O 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 183 

"Who with blossoms clothes the rod — 

"Who from bitter, sweetness brings — 

She, a Christian mother, sings. 

Glorying in such a son, 

Glorying that she had one 

Freely willing to be spent 

In the distant Orient ; — 

"Willing, in his early spring, 

Blooming buds and flowers to bring, — 

Sacrifice of sweetest smell, 

Which Jehovah loveth well. 

Who, hereafter, doubts the world 
Shall every where behold unfurled 
Banners of our King ? — Who fears 
For the holy cause, that hears 
Of this mother's quenchless zeal ? 
Who, that heareth, will not feel 
Stirrings of the soul, engaging 
Him to go where strife is raging ? — 



184 LATE AND EARLY POEMS 

Buckling on the sword and shield 
Burning for the victor's field ! 



THE BETHEL FLAG. 

O, BRING the peaceful banner nigh 
Whose blazon tells of holy love, 

And spread the standard to the sky 
Whose wavy folds reveal the Dove. 

'Tis done ; and on the soft winds now 
I see its streaming curls recline, 

And deem it as a second bow 

Of promise, and the blessing mine. 

Flag of the pure and azure heaven ! 
How lovely is thy bearing here — 



O- 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 185 

Free as the breezes round thee driven, 
Is thy sweet errand on the ear. 

Thou markest not the hurrying keel, 
Whose foamy path leads on to gold ; 

Thy nobler freighted barks conceal 
Gems Tyre and Tarshish never sold. 

Thou leadest not the armed host ; 

Thou art not in the battle's hum ; 
No trump sings of thee ; round thee roll 

No thunders of the stirring drum. 

But unto thee are gathered men 
"Whose only panoply is prayer ; 

And where thou wavest, lofty hymns 
Discourse along the listening air. 

Thou giv'st to patriot gaze no star 
Nor stripes, — a glorious augury ; 

Yet token of victorious war 

Thy beaming symbols seem to be. 



186 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

For they type One, whose tempered shield 
Shook off the hurtling darts of sin, 

When he trod once no doubtful field, 
Imperishable crowns to win. 

They tell unto the ocean tossed, 

That He who spans its floods can save ; 

And that for him, the well nigh lost, 
The Ark yet lingers on the wave. 

They herald joy to the oppressed. 
And ransom to the sons of thrall ; 

And shadow forth to labor rest 
In music of Salvation's call. 

With voice of anthems to the skies 
Display the folds that tell of love ! 

The answering anthem's shout shall rise 
As they reveal the Holy Dove. 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 187 



WHAT IS ETERNITY? 

Go thou and mark the holy preacher's tones, 

And fix thy gaze intently, as he lifts 

The separating veil, and to thy sight 

Unfolds the secrets of Eternity — 

The bliss that knows no pausing — pains that 

roll 
In whelming billows, ever, ever on. 
Thou hear'st, thou seest, appalled ; yet know- 

est not 
To answer me, what is Eternity. 

Go, bend thee o'er the impenitent sick one ; 
Mark well — 'tis mortal sickness — the deep 

pangs 
Expressed by nature's eloquence ; the groans. 
The tossings, writhings, the unutterable 



-O 



188 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 



Commotions of a body racked ; a soul 
Already steeped in hell ; and as thou hear'st 
The superhuman cry break fearfulyforth, 
" O, what is this Eternity ? " despair, 
Despair, O man, to answer — thou know'st 
not. 

Go to the graveyard ; seek out yonder tomb ; 
Descend ; fear not ; thou seest that moulder- 
ing lid ; 
Now handle the dark corse ; the clammy bones 
Tell of corruption, tell of the foul worm 
That long hath here held banqueting. 
Hark ! from this coffin, broken into dust, 
These bones, these damps, this melancholy 

gloom, 
A voice, that asks : " What is Eternity ? " 
Canst thou reply ? O no ; thou know'st not 

yet. 

Nor learnest here, what is Eternity. 

O O 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 189 

Go to ! and let God touch thee ; let the grasp 
Of sickness bring thee down unto the gates 
Of death, and as thou shuddering seest, in light 
Unknown before, the present, and the past, 
And solemn future — though thy hopes on 

Him, 
The Everlasting Rock, be built — though thou 
Art safe through riches of His blood, and thou 
Canst say, exulting, "Death! where is thy 

sting?" — 
Yet, man ! a veil is lifted up to thee, 
Revealing things untold of, nor yet dreamed, 
In the wide range of Providence to men. 
And 710W thou canst reply, " Eternity ! 
More than the tongue can tell or thought 

devise ; 
More than imagination fathom ; God ! — 
Eternal God ! — 'tis Thy Duration all." 

1830. 



190 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 



SICKNESS AND RECOVERY. 

Thou wast brought down by sickness. In 

thy youth — 
In thy fresh vigor — in the midst of toil 
And usefulness, God touched, thee. Racking 

pain 
And conflict, sharp, came on thee. We be- 
held 
Our leader taken from the wonted place 
Of holy ministering, and on the bed 
Of anguish cast, — yet sweetly there to teach 
His flock, by patient willingness, to choose 
A Father's will. "We felt, in our deep need. 
Already shepherdless. "We feared that thou 
No more unto thy gathered ones wouldst 

break 
C 



-o 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 191 

The living Bread, nor lead them by the 

streams 
Of free salvation. But for thee, we knew 
Our loss must needs be gain. We wept — we 

prayed. — 
The secret sigh of those whom thou hast led 
To Zion, broke forth for thee. The heart's 

cry, 
So deep, so powerful, went up for thee. 
God heard and answered ; and his strong 

rebuke 
Drove back the messenger that well nigh 

brought 
Thy feet to Jordan's swellings. 

Now, again, 
AVe meet thee at the altar, where we bow, 
A flock assured, and comforted, and glad. 
And as we look upon thy wasted form. 
And pallid brow, and mark of that stern strife 



-O 



192 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

These tokens, — thoughts of gratitude to 

heaven 
Are blended with the prayer, that needful 

strength 
To serve thy Master longer, may be thine ; 
And long thy purity of heart and life, 
That living comment on thy message, may 
Be given unto our gaze. For us — that we, 
Stricken, yet not destroyed, may rise and 

shine, 
A living Church, a Pillar of the Truth. 

1835. 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 193 



SPAIN. 

WRITTEN IN ANTICIPATION OF THE INVASION OF 
SPAIN, BY THE ARMIES OF LOUIS XVIII., IN 1823. 

Yes ! march, ye forces, in array ; 

The Spanish soil invade ; 
Pounce, eager falcons, on your prey, 

Draw forth the unrighteous blade. 

Go, Autocrat ! thou foe to man, 
Go bind the free-born soul ; — 

And ye base kings, who dare not scan 
His vengeance, bid it roll. 

Yet know, the desolating tide 

Ye, impious, loose again, 
Back shall recoil to whelm your pride 

From free unconquered Spain. 

Go forth, ye slaves ! although the light 
Of victory gilds your plume, 

13 



-0 



194 LATE AND EARLY POEMS 



That ray shall die in fearful night, 
Those laurels deck the tomb. 

Enters within God's canopy, 

In mockery to the throne. 
One hireling prayer of slavery ? 

It enters not alone. 

Ten thousand, thousand, as one heart, 

Spain ! lift the prayer for thee ; 
Ten thousand thousand swords will start 

For Spain and Liberty ! 

Hear ye not voices ? — 'tis the shout 

That, kindling, swells on high ; 
See ye not light ? — those brands are out, 

They flash upon the sky. 

Sooner those tongues shall writhe in gore. 
Those swords be drunk with blood, — 

Than Spain prove false to days of yore. 
False to herself and God. 

O— 



— o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 195 

Then onward, onward, vaunting band ! 

Rear Slavery's symbol high ; 
Yet halt, proud legions ! Freedom's land 

Is holy — touch and die. 



'Tis past — the voyage of life is o'er, 

The wanderer hails another clime ; 
On perils borne to yonder shore, 

He views afar the waves of Time. 
The storm that muttered o'er his head, 

The flame that quivered round his path. 
Are sweetly hushed ; the cloud hath fled. 

And gone the angry lightning's scath. 



-O 



196 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

'Tis past ; and grief is changed to songs 

That angel-cordons love to hear ; 
The harp that to delight belongs, 

In softest murmur soothes his ear. 
For secret sighs that rent his breast 

There's peace to seraphs only known, — 
The tear that told the heart, oppressed, 

Is gemmed upon the eternal throne. 

Blessed voyager ! how happy thou, 

Safe moored within the port of peace ; 
Once heir of death — immortal now, 

Of pain — thy toils forever cease. 
O, may I, too, thus sweetly rise, 

Thus tread yon bright empyrean free ; 
With joy regain those native skies, 

Secure at last in love like thee. 

1820. 



-o 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 197 



WHITE HILLS OF NEW HAMPSHIRE. 

I SEE ye towering — Genii of the North ! 
I see ye stand, the monuments of Time, 
Clad in the dread sublimity of years. 
Well do I know ye by the frosty robe, 
God's drapery, that wraps your giant forms. 

Parents of Freedom ! on your hoary heights 
The fearless eagle makes her eyry, there 
Plants her domain, approachless to the foe. 
The hardy yeoman vent'rously is seen 
With patient labor toiling your ascent, 
Invading solitudes where fitful winds 
Talk 'mid the pines ; — he treads the dizzy 

clift-; 
Thence, wondering, surveys the little world 
Of forest, village, lake, that clothes your feet. 

6 O 



198 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

The sailor knows ye — nearing the rough 

coast, — 
From the tall mast, his lonely weary watch, — 
Descries and greets ye as a long lost friend, 
"When your hoar summits, glittering to the 

sun, 
Seem to his gaze hut fleecy summer clouds. 



WILLIAM, HOWARD, EUGENE, AND 
AMANDA. 

Beautiful blossoms, as ye seemed, my Boys ! 
And fragrant to the sense, sweet to the eye, 
Ye were for other regions, and the sky — 
Balmy and healthful, redolent of joys. 
Where no sirocco comes nor storm annoys — 

o o 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 199 

Received ye. There, unfadingly, ye bloom. 

And thou, my Daughter ! thy mortality 
Dropped, unreluctant, that thou mightst as- 
sume 

The garments woven for eternity, 
Hast, too, in beauty, sought the silent tomb. 

And now ye all, with your co-angels free, 

Embrace each other in the better land. 
Where is no candle, yet is known no gloom ; 

Where tears are wiped away by God's owu 
hand. 



O- 



200 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 



MY COUNTRY.— SLAVERY. 

Yet on thy lovely robe of light, 

Where starry gems in glory lie, 
One spot is seen, that's dipped in night, 

One cloud yet stains thy brilliant sky. 
'Tis Slavery — yes, the Negro's tear 

Has steeped the soil where martyrs bled ; 
His withering curse has met the ear. 

Breathed o'er the bones of Freedom's dead. 
Farewell to Liberty for thee, 
Till these, thy basely thralled, are free. 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 201 



THE PRISON. 

They have built ye firmly, frowning walls ! 

With the iron and the stone ; 
And cheerless is your prison-house, 

Where the wretch may sigh alone. 

Unto the lost one, here may years 

Of grief unnoted roll ; 
Thou art, unsated sullen tomb ! 

The Bastile of the soul. 

Within thy cold damp-dripping cell, 

Unseen by human eye — 
Methinks 'twere horrible to dwell, 

Less horrible to die. 

To know that the bright blessed sun 
It was not mine to see : 



202 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

That spring should bloom and summer 

smile, 
Yet bloom nor smile for me — 

To listen for the voice or tread 

Of man, yet list in vain ; 
Thoughts of the dying and the dead, 

Than these, were lesser pain. 

Yet to the lost abandoned one 
Cast out, and spurned of all, — 

O'er whose fond hopes and early dreams 
Despair has flung its pall, — 

To him, the dead, is life revealed, 
His dungeon walls are heaven, 

When Mercy, breaking through the gloom. 
Whispers, " Thou art forgiven ! " 

1821. 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 203 



AFRICA. 

God ! while dusky Hindostan 

Sees the light that comes from Thee, 
While no more Mahratta's man 

Gives to Boodh the knee, — 
While again the Grecian hears 

In old temples, truth, profound, 
While the Crescent disappears 

From Calvary's holy ground, — 
Faithful Smyrna strives to cast 

From her, Age's rusty pall, 
And for China word has passed 

That overleaps her wall — 

God ! shall not the Negro's land 

Be with life and freedom blessed ? 
Shall not Ethiopia's band 



-O 



204 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

Enter into rest ? 
Shall Sahara's thirsty ranger 

Never taste the rivulet ? 
Still shall Christendom the stranger 

In the Moorish gate forget ? 
While thy Dove of Mystery 

Every where is flying, 
Will not leaves of healing he 

Sent to Afric, dying ? 

Where a witch in wine the pearl 

Melted, is thy Pearl forbid ? 
Shall not men the Cross unfurl 

On the Pyramid ? 
May not upon night again 

Open the immortal morn, 
Where Cyprian taught, and Origen 

Adorned the priestly lawn ? 
May not hamlets that festoon 

Beautifully Niger's flood, 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 205 

With old Memphis and "Wednoon, 
Be given unto God ? 

On the twilight-nations look ! 

"Where the Crescent's beams prevail — 
Shall they not, at thy rebuke, 

Pale, as stars at morning pale ? 
Wilt Thou not awake the dead ? 

Captive lead captivity ? — 
May not elder Egypt spread 

Heart and hand to Thee ? 
Yes ! the sword is on His thigh ; 

Wrath and Mercy at His side, — 
Bowing from the rended sky, 

God goes forth to ride ! 

1833. 



o 

206 LATE AND EARLY POEMS 



THOMAS S. GRIMKE, OF SOUTH CAROLINA. 

How many vegetate in idle life, 
A worthless herd ! Earth's listless cumberers ; 
Born only to consume her liberal fruits. 
How many live in pleasure ! seeking still 
To gratify poor self, nor caring aught 
For good or ill beyond. How many live 
Only to vex society with crime ! — 
A multitude whose errand to our globe 
'Twere hard to scan, save that they're instru- 
ments 
"Wherewith the Almighty doth in anger 

scourge. 
And yet they live to tedious old age. 
Useless, debased, the doers of foul sin. 
At once the land's excrescence and its plague. 

o 6 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS 207 

While others, who, to benefit their race, 
Spend weary years, give their best energies, 
And know existence only as a means 
Of doing good, — studious and watchful still 
That this fair world for them may be the bet- 
ter,— 
Who, by sweet kindness, polish, learning, 

seem 
To realize the thought of what men are 
When purified and made as angels, — 
Even in the midst of days and usefulness, 
With all their honors green upon them. 
Circled by our fond hopes and loves and pray- 
ers. 
Are for our sins called hence. They die, — 
And we are left to weep, and wonder how 
Such worth and moral beauty could be 

spared. 
Of this fair company wast thou ! Of those 



O 



o 

208 LATE AND EARLY POEMS 



That build their monuments where Virtue 

builds 
Art thou! — and gathered to the dead we 

deem 
That thou wast lent us, just to show how 

blest 
And lovely is the life that lives for all. 

1834. 



SHE MAY NOT DIE! 



The only art her guilt to cover, 
To hide her shume from every eye, 

To give repentance to her lover, 
And wring his bosom, is — to die. 



Goldsmith. 



Ah, no ! Compassion, yet imploring, 
"With balmy lip will soothe the sigh 



O- 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 209 

While Pity bends with look, restoring, 
The hapless maiden shall not die. 

The thorn of guilt may pierce the sinner, 
Repentance will succeed the smart ; 

Religion's holy smile shall win her, 
And Mercy heal the wounded heart. 



M. B. T. AND H. B. T. 

Just thirteen years, our Eldest Son ! 

It is, since that which gave thee birth, — 
And thou, a little helpless one, 

Opened thine eyes on this fair earth ; — 
And tall and comely now thou art, 

And many a rising hope have we, 
That all the fond parental heart 

Can ask of good, 'twill find in thee. 

o o 



210 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

And thou, our Second ! the twin-boy, 

Left early by thy brother here, — 
For ■whom is mingled with our joy 

For thy glad presence, Memory's tear, — 
In thy eleven summers past, 

Thou'st been a pleasant child, and thus, 
Like a sweet bird of song, hast cast 

The melody of peace round us. 
The morning wish for both, — the prayer 

That mingles with our good-night kiss, — 
Rise, that in better worlds ye'U share 

The joys that tarry not with this. 
Linked in your loves, life's checkered way, 

"We deem, will be in safety trod, 
If, resting on a moveless Stay, 

Ye, sons of ours, are Sons of God ! 



— 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 211 



MORTALITY. — IMMORTALITY. 

I SAW some workmen toil the other day — 
'Twas in St. Mary's churchyard, — on a tomb, 
"Which they were rearing for new tenantry. 
And, to prepare it, they had delved a vault, 
Some six feet square, and more than twice 

that depth. 
Just in the heart of this dense burial-place, 
Where every foot of the rich earth is fattened 
With human dust, and bones lie intermixed 
With the green mould, as thickly as in char- 

nels. 
The men were somewhat rough, — over their 

task 
Swearing and jesting, making plenteous mirth 
Of the poor fragments which they shovelled up. 
So I approached them timidly, and looked, 



o 

212 LATE AND EARLY POEMS 



And saw, along the sides of the deep trench, 
Dark niches, each of which had been a grave; 
And some were empty. As I gazed, I saw 
A coffin at full length, imbedded fast 
In the hard clay. The sharp spade in descent 
Had shaven off the side of the deal chest, 
Admitting daylight on the sleeping dead. 
And what a sight ! — In duskiness and damp. 
Mildew, and noisomeness of sad decay, 
Reclined the skeleton. It had been there 
For years — the flesh all gone, the crumbling 

bones 
Disjointed. Long ago the pampered worm 
Had had his feast, and died. Years had 

rolled by, 
Since, with the tears of kindred, these remains 
Were lodged in their dark chamber. Those 

who wept 
Had also gone. None told me of the dead. 
I nearer looked, and saw what once had been 

o o 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS, 213 

Another coffin ; but the turning up, 
Rudely, of the heaped earth, had crushed it in ; 
And coffin, bones, and dust were blended all 
In loathsomeness. Apart, I saw the skull ; — 
'Twas small and delicate; — and the next 

spade 
Threw up a mass of long, dishevelled hair. 
It was a woman's form that thus was flung 
Carelessl}' from its bed to open day. 
The hair Avas firm, luxuriant, and beautiful, 
And still retained its glossy, golden hue. 
Even in decay, and saturate with damps. 
Once it descended on an ivory neck. 
And the young wearer little deemed that 

plucked 
From the fair head on which it grew, 'twould 

serve 
To fill the shovel of a laborer. 
And little recked she, tresses, among which 
The fingers of a lover once had played 



o 

214 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 



Delightedly, should be the sport of such, 
And thus be tossed and handled, and let fall 
Quickly, as they were poisonous. Away 
I went, and pondered my mortality. 
******* 

I held his hand ; — 
'Twas chilly cold, yet softly he returned 
My pressure. On his pallid brow sat damps, 
And on his quivering lips the dew of death 
Had gathered. Over him his anxious wife 
Leaned tearfully. His little ones were there ; 
And silent neighbors stood apart to see 
How manfully the Christian might gird up 
His loins, and welcome Death. 

I asked him then 
Of hopes beyond the grave ; if in this hour 
Its Conqueror was nigh, and if he saw. 
With Faith's clear ken, the Star that ever 

burns 
Upon the tomb's dark confines, still to cheer 



O- 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 215 

The soul, departing ? and if aught he heard 
Of music, which breaks forth celestially 
On ears that unto earth are shut ? And these, 
His precious ones — could he leaA^e these ? He 

looked 
Most sweetly upward, murmuring gently, "All, 
All, all for Christ ! — Grave, where's thy vic- 
tory ? 
O Peath, where is thy sting?" — and peace- 
fully, 
With that last word, he fell asleep. I thought 
The narrow house for him could have no 

dread ; 
He feared not death, nor sad corruption. He'll 
Sleep very pleasantly where Jesus slept ; -— 
His mortal immortality puts on. 

Philadelphia, 1836. 



o 

216 LATE AND EARLY POEM 



TAHITI. 



A vessel, laden with New England Rum, saileth for fhe Georgian 
Islands, where abide Missionaries. One of the crew beguileth the 
nighl walch with a son? of cheerfulness. 



Merrily foams the dark blue sea, 

As hasten we along ; 
Merrily beams the boundless heaven, 

"Whose stars discourse in song. 

Cape Horn ! we're doubling now thy front 

Of tempests, — now, in pride. 
Upon Pacific's gentle breast, 

Behold our good ship ride ! 

Our ship — the breeze hath filled her wings ; 

Storms have locked up their stores ; 
And luck betided, since she left 

The bold New England shores. 



O- 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 217 

Merrily o'er the dark blue sea ! 

For fairy isles, that sleep 
In beauty on the placid wave, — 

The jewels of the deep. 

Tahiti ! — we praise men that bowed 

The missionary knee ; — 
Men that, long years, watched, warned, and 
wept. 

And prayed and toiled for thee. 

Why fainted they on thy stern soil ? — 
Why found they there a tomb ? — 

'Tis seen in rising marts, where now 
The fruits of Commerce bloom. 

Their honest purpose smoothed our path ; 

They heralded our way ; 
They've sown the seed, and we will reap 

Rich harvest, while we may. 



o 

218 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

Merrily sail we ! — let good men 
Labor to ease the curse, — 

Our alchemy transmutes their toil 
To ingots for the purse. 

Merrily sail we ! — praise to Him 
Who rules the world ! we're free ; — 

"What's the world for, but to yield forth 
Its gold, to such as we ? 

Merrily sail they ! — and the Fiend 
Laughs loud and long, as come 

Men, Men ! to drench these lovely isles 
In Heirs last potion, RUM ! 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 219 



IN THE COUNTRY. 

0, WHO would not shun the hurrying din 
That riots, proud city ! thy walls within ? 
Who would not turn his pilgrim feet 
From the crowded hall to the calm retreat ? 
And climb with the sun his native mountain ? 
And seek at noon the favorite fountain ? — 
Let such, with his joys, be far from me, — 
I give, simple scenes, my love to ye. 
Away, away from the fevered mart, 
Where Avarice rules in the slavish heart ; 
Where all is soulless and all is cold, 
Save love of self and love of gold, — 
I hasten from the enchanter's spell. 
To scenes where Nature delights to dwell ; 
To the clime of my earliest, brightest dreams ; 
Where, on ruder hills, by purer streams. 



-Q 



O ' 

220 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

Through sunnier vales, 'twas mine to roam, 
Than thought ever imaged ; — it was my home. 
Yes, land of my childhood ! dear art thou. 
New England ! dearer to fancy now. 
Than when, as thy mountain breezes free, 
In the laughing hours of infancy, 
From fields and floods 'twas mine to borrow 
Bliss for to-day and hope for the morrow. 
And here, where, along romantic shores. 
Her waters Connecticut proudly pours, — 
Where the yellow and purple harvest is seen, 
Gorgeously waving o'er meadows of green ; 
Where the village spire in sunset shines ; 
Where Health is a frolicker 'mid the pines ; 
Where the village bell is heard, in a tone 
Of sadness, as it seems to moan 
In music, along the valley and hill ; — 
Here, in the bosom of all that's still. 
And pure, and holy, the wanderer knew 
The smile of love and the greeting true. 



o- 



. o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 221 

Who would not shun the hurrying din 
That revels, proud city ! thy walls within ? 
Who to the domes of the proud would stray, 
When the heart and its joys are far away ? 



THE OMEN. 



A DARK cloud sailed along the sky. 

Charged with the thunder and the rain ; 

Slowly it sailed along, and I 

Gazed on the traveller with pain. 

Now rising ^seeming now to dip, 
Proudly, withal, and wondrous fair — 

It passed, like some majestic ship. 
Along the buoyant paths of air. 



222 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

I often have beheld the clouds, 
In solemn pageant, sweep along, 

And gazed, where God himself enshrouds, 
And listened to the tempest's song. 

But this one was so dread to see, 
I looked and shuddered — looked and 
sighed, — 

Yet deemed not grief so near to me ; — 
That very night my sweet babe died. 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 223 



TEXAS. — 1837. 

Admit her to the Union ? — Yes ! 

If our democracy can bow 
To kings, and is prepared to kiss 

The loathsome hem of tyrants now ; 
From principles that years have tried 

If thus we fall, no longer men. 
And to our fathers' deeds of pride 

Are recreant, why — admit her, then ! 

If names that moved us move no more, 
And we, degenerate, are ashamed 

Of Freedom and her battles' lore, 
And leave her worthies to be blamed ; 

If Bunker Hill flings up reproach. 

And Lexington 's the mock of men, — 

Bid them " God speed " who would encroach 
' On justice, and — admit her, then! 



-O 



224: LATE AND EARLY TOE MS. 

If Hancock, Adams, Wakren, were 

Deluded fools that chased a dream, 
And Washington ambitious, where 

The patriot's sword was said to gleam ; 
If all the bright green spots that mark 

The veteran's bed, by brook and glen. 
Hide traitors,. — on their memories, dark 

Deep curses rest, — admit her, then ! 

If Slavery's foul and damning spot 

Must here increase, like Ahab's cloud, 
Blackening the firmament, till not 

One star shall blaze upon the proud ; 
If thus, a spectacle of scorn 

To nations, we're content, — let men 
Lift up the consummated horn 

Of infamy — admit her, then ! 

But if the loud, indignant cry. 
Heard round the world, has power; if soon 
— C 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 225 

Must midnight Error droop and die, 
And Truth, stand out to burning noon ; 

If down Time's ages lives our land, 
The proudest last retreat for men. 

Her flag by Freedom's breezes fanned, — 
Ye'll not — ye can't admit her, then ! 

Now is the time, and now's the hour ! 

Through our republic's breadth and length, 
From hall and cot from town and tower 

Let answer go in Virtue's strength. 
And peal far round the startling cry — 

" "We, whose old fathers struck the blow, 
"We, who for Freedom dare to die. 

In million voices, thunder — NO ! " 



15 



c- 

226 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 



VERSES 

TO THE AUTHOR OF " A VOICE FROM THE 
MAIN DECK." 

In every line of this thy book 

Simplicity and Truth I see ; 
Cold eyes, perhaps, may on it look ; — 

It opens Feeling's fount in me. 

The ills of orphanage, the blight 

That falls upon the youthful flower, — 

The scorn of pomp and pride, the slight 
That waits the crushed by Penury's power ; 

Life's winged storms that ceaseless beat. 
And wound the weary wandering dove, 

That rest has none till safe retreat 
She finds within the Ark of Love, — 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 227 

I've read and pondered — read and wept — 
And thought, What can the stricken do — 

By cruel winds and waters swept — 
But hasten to such Refuge too ? 

"We're wanderers, all, of land or sea ; 

On ship and shore Life's storms increase ; 
Yet who'll complain, that may like thee 

Drop anchor in the port of peace ? 

I thought, too, in the darkest hour 
That ever wraj^t the earth or deep, 

Hope hath indomitable power 
The tempest-driven soul to keep. 

Our straining sails we reef or furl, 
In haste the angry wrath to slip, — 

Yet, ceased of elements the whirl, 
Our canvass clouds again the ship. 

Our compass from its silent track 
In Grief's cold latitudes may veer, — 



o 

228 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

But quickly flies the needle back 
When to Affection's clime we steer. 

And O, how sweet to think, while crowd 
These earthly sorrows round us so, 

That we, who to the blasts have bowed. 
Shall rise where only zephyrs blow ! 



TO A HALF-BLOWN LILY. 

Beauteous blossom ! welcome here ! 

Lily that I love so well ; 
Fairest of the gay parterre, 

Lily of the silver bell ! 

In the low sequestered dale, 

Sheltered from the mountain storm, 



LATE AND EAKLY POEMS. 229 

Sweetest of the sylvan vale, 
Spring unfolds thy slender form. 

Lovelier, thou, of spotless hue, 
Shrinking from the gaze of light, 

Than the rose which loves to show 
Conscious beauty to the sight. 

Partly thus thy charms concealed — 

Type of modesty art thou ; 
To the graces, half revealed. 

We, delighted, willing bow. 

Bloom, O bloom, thou lovely flower ! 

Fairest of the laughing dell ; 
Queen art thou of Flora's bower ! 

Lily of the silver bell ! 

1820. 

O 



230 LATE AND EARLY POEMS, 



O, WHAT IS LIFE BUT SOME DARK 
DREAM. 

0, "WHAT is Life but some dark dream 

From -which we wake to sigh ? — 
A false uncertain meteor's gleam, 
That sheds a wandering cheerless beam, 
And brightens but to die ? 

O, what are fleeting joys below. 

But cares bedecked with smiles ? — 
The pageant of an empty show, 
That fain would gild or hide the woe 
From him it thus beguiles ? 

And what is Sorrow's secret tear, 
But kindly dew of Even ? — 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 231 

A drop, pellucid, glistening here, 
To sympathy, to virtue dear, — 
Quickly exhaled to heaven ! 

1818. 



WE ARE TOO COLD FOR THOSE WHOSE 
LOVE. 

We are too cold for those whose love 
Should centre. Lord ! alone in Thee ; 

And like the generous flames above. 
There glow and shine eternally. 

"VVe are too mute for those that soon 
Expect to sing in temples, where 

The light is one all glorious noon, — 
The hymn is that which worlds will share. 
. ^O 



o ■ 

232 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

We are too trifling, whose brief walk 
Is to the tomb's forgetfulness ; 

Along whose chambers comes no talk 
Of the earth's giddy nothingness. 

"VVe are too faithless for the men 

Whom God hath girded to the fight ; 

Whose victory 's only certain, when 
The armor of Belief is bright. 

We are too proud for those whose sin 
Brought the veiled God to weep below. 

And feel the malison within, 
Due only to his ingrate foe. 

We are too grovelling, whose high aim 
Should look away from earth to heaven : 

O Christ ! to our acknowledged shame 
Let thy redeeming robe be given. 



-o- 



o- 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 233 



PILGRIMAGE OF THE DEAD. 

A rich Jewess, who lately died in London, directed, by her will, 
that her body should be taken to Jerusalem oy twelve of her friends, 
(Jews,) to whom she left £400, each, for their trouble. 

Up, and away for Palestine ! 

Away, and with the Dead embark ! 
The soil I covet to be mine, 

Where slumber Seer and Patriarch. 
Away ! Away ! my pilgrim feet 

Have long in weary wanderings trod ; 
In thee I seek a last retreat, 

Clime where my fathers worshipped God ! 

land of beauty, desolate ! 

"Who now to trump and song shall tell 
Thy triumphs ? for the scornful hate 

And smite thee, hapless Israel ! 
And God hath hid his face from thee ; 



234 



LATE AND EARLY POEMl 



Thy God, whose pillar led thee on, 
Heeds not where base ones bow the knee 
In mockery of the Holy One. 

And who unto thy hill shall roam ? 

Alas ! no glory beckons there ; 
"Where thy first temple heaved its dome, 

The haughty Moslem calls to prayer. 
O royal Salem ! David's seat ! 

The queen of cities sattest thou, 
"When humbled nations at thy feet 

Laid gorgeous spoil ; — what art thou now ? 

Yet dear art thou, Jerusalem ! 

Though trodden as the olive, wild, — 
Of cities still the glorious gem 

Unto thy stricken, weeping child. 
Away ! too long the wanderer 

Hath tarried with the Gentile band ; 
Ye palms of Judah, shelter her ! 

Receive her ashes, native land ! 



O- 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 235 



THE MINSTRELS OP JUDAH HAVE GONE 
TO THEIR REST. 

The minstrels of Judah have gone to their 
rest; 
The song and the tabret no longer are 
heard ; 
The watchmen of Zion with slumber op- 
pressed, 
Kepose where in wrath the Assyrian ap- 
peared. 

And the beauty of Israel, forgotten, has fled. 
And darkness envelops Jerusalem now ; 

No night-lamp illumines the place of the dead, 
Save the Star that beams lonely on Olivet's 
brow. 



236 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

'Tis the Star of the Shepherd ! and long has 
it shone 
With the gems of the morning, on Galilee's 
plain ; 
'Tis the herald of Bethlehem ! hut pale now 
and lone 
Is the purest and loveliest of Night's silent 
train. 

Shall the herald of Bethlehem in sadness 
appear ? 
The symbol no longer on Solyma shine ? 
Shall the Star of the Shepherd, once lovely 
and clear, 
Die away o'er the mountains of fair Pales- 
tine ? 

Rejoice ! for the Daughter of Judah no more 
Shall array her in sackcloth, Zion, for 
thee; 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 237 



Thy light has arisen ! from Egypt's dark shore 
It shines in its strength to Gennesaret's 
sea. 



VILLAGE SUNDAY SCHOOL CELEBRATION 
OF FOURTH OF JULY. 

OuK fathers rose in Peril's day 

To die, or life and land to free ; 
0, Thou ! who nerv'dst them for that fray, 

The arms and victory were from Thee ; 
And Thou that didst for them decree 

Safe passage through the angry host, 
Savior from chariot and from sea — 

Thou art the God in whom we boast ! 

Upon our fair and favored land 
Descends abundance in a shower ; 



o 

238 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

And many a bright and joyous band 
Their banners rear to Peace this hour ; 

Convened beneath our leafy bower — 
The turf our shrine, the sky our dome — 

"We praise Thee, Thou Protecting Power ! 
For blessings past -^ for hopes to come. 

And Lord ! from thy pavilion shine 

Upon the offering, as Thou'st shone ; 
And be each heart's inscription thine, 

To God Unseen, yet not unknown ! 
And 0, propitious from Thy throne 

Of starry light, behold us now ; 
And let the thought of Thee alone 

Possess our bosoms as we bow. 

Long look, and kindly, on the soil 
Once watered with the Pilgrim's tear ; 

And grant that all their prayers and toil 
May yield to Thee a harvest here ; 

O ^ 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 239 



And as thy hand metes out the year, 
Bless thou the ruled and those that 
rule; 

And O, our God ! be ever near 
In love, to bless the Sunday School. 



LEAVE THY FATHERLESS CHILDREN. 

Come hither, my sweet babes! — this is the 

hour 
Your sainted father gathered ye around 
In happy circle. Come! and we will join 
The accustomed evening prayer ; and though 

he kneels 
With us no more, his spirit lingers near. 
And gladly will behold us. 
-^ O 



240 LATE ANB EARLY POEMS. 

Open now 
God's Book — the treasure of rich promise, 

where 
Are garnered jewels for the orphaned one, — 
Yes, for the widoAV precious comfortings 
Hicher than wedges of the hidden gold. 
"Leave," saith He, "Leave thy Fatherless, 

and I 
"Will safely keep them, and to my right arm 
Let thy sad widows trust." — This is our Mine ! 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 241 



TREMONT TEMPLE. 

FORMERLY TREMONT THEATRE, IN BOSTON. ■WRIT- 
TEN ON THE OCCASION OF ITS BEING 
OPENED FOR RELIGIOUS WORSHIP. 

The Pencil's art and Chisel's skill 

Has Taste compelled around this shrine, 

"Where Genius and where Wit, at will, 
Once held the sense with charm divine. 

These altars, heaped with Pleasure's spoils, 
Henceforth shall airy Pleasure shame 

With — costlier than her gums and oils — 
The heart that fears Jehovah's Name. 

The Tragic and the Comic Muse 
To meek Religion yield the throne ; 

The flower that drank Castalia's dews 
Will blush and bloom for God alone. 

o _ 



o 

242 LATE AND EAKLY POEMS. 

Thanks, holy Savior, that such change 
InTolves no sacrifice of bliss, — 

But rather that the Drama's range 
Aifords no happiness like this. 

For Knowledge wakes a smile to-night, 
That surely speaks of Hope and Heaven ; 

And if a tear reveal its light, 
It sparkles joy for sin forgiven. 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 243 



THE DEW OF HERMON. 

Our Church surveys the field, and keeps 

The bond of union strong ; 
Broadcasts the seed in prayer, and reaps 

The harvest with a song. 
In Adam found, she sees the stains 

Of unbelief and pride ; — 
Yet, deluged from the Savior's veins, 

They're lost beneath the tide. 

No blush of gorgeous morning tells 

'Tis time her hosts should rise. 
And break the deep, lethargic spells 

That hold the slumbering eyes ; — 
For Peace on them her starry seal 

Loves joyfully to write ; 
O 



o 

244 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

And, seen of all, the lines reveal 
"With her 'tis alwaj'S light. 

Truth comes — the thunder-voice that 
shakes 

The citadel of sin ; — 
The quick-cross-lightning bolt that breaks 

The stubborn rock within ; — 
Yet on the heart the winning word 

Of sweet persuasion falls ; 
And 'mid the terrors of the Lord 

His mightier Mercy calls. 

They come not like the cloudy rack, 

Bold journeyer of the sky, — 
But as the timid doves, that back 

To their home windows fly ; — 
And quietly, as those who shun 

The follies loved before. 
The happy converts — one by one — 

Are entering Zion's door. 



o- 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 245 

And prayer, imbued with hopes and fears, — 

Nor rash, nor loud, nor long, — 
Wells up in penitence and tears, 

For utterance all too strong. 
And here and there a glistening eye 

The inward fount reveals ; 
And with soft breath the frequent sigh 

Around in music steals. 

'Tis no Revival in the term 

Spasmodical, to crown 
Aspiring labor — though a worm 

Might bring the unction down ; — 
Nor waits the Church a certain hour 

Of angel-troublings here ; — 
Her gracious Lord with healing power 

Is present all the year. 

And she believes, though o'er her head 
Now by the Holy Ghost 



24:6 LATE ANB EARLY POEMS. 

No Wing of Mercy is outspread, 

As at the Pentecost, 
That converts, to the Savior won. 

In numbers seeming few, 
"Will spangle Earth, as in the sun 

'Tis gemmed with morning dew ! 

1849. 



C> 



— 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 247 



TO THE SHORTER CATECHISM. 

The Abbey Church to curious eyes 
Its archives shows of men, I wis ; — 

The grave Assembly and their wise 
Prolocutor, the Reverend Twisse ; * 

"Who challenged EiTor long ago ; — 
The Men who bucklered for the fight ; 

The Men who went in prayer to sow 
The seeds of Day in fields of night ; 

Whose fruits attest two hundred years. — 
With thee, what recollections come, 

• The first day of July, 1643, having been appointed for the 
meeting of tlie Assembly, the members of tl>e two houses of Par- 
liament, the divines, and a great congregation besides, being met 
in the Abbey Church, in Westminster, Dr. Twisse, the appointed 
prolocutor, preached to them from John xiv. 18, " 1 will not leave 
you comfortless." — ffisfory of the Westminster Assembly of 
Dieines. 



-o 



o 

248 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

O Manual ! linked to smiles and tears, 
And all the heaven of early home.* 

Epitome of precious truth, 

Condensed in every line and word, 



* It has often been saiil, by jutlicioiis men, that a better summary 
of llie ovlliodux failh could not be permed, than the Shorter Cate- 
chism of the VVestmuisler Assembly of Divines. It has been the 
vehicle of conveying to the minds of millions, for two hundred 
years, nearly, a concise but comprehensive view of the doctrines of 
the Reformation. Thoujfh often committed and repeated, by many 
who never seriously consider the truths which it contains, yet it is 
exceedingly impoitant to have such a form of sound words lodged 
in the memory, especiallj' if committed, as it should be, in connec- 
tion with some of the clearest and strongest proof-texts, on which 
the doctrine of each answer is founded, that all may understand 
that their laith should rest on the word of God, and not on the au- 
thority of men. But where this Catechism is judiciously used by 
parents and pastors, the truths contained in it will be doctrinally 
understood ; and even if the catechumen should load a life not 
conformable to the precepts here inculcated, yet, at a future day, 
these neglected and resisted truths may be the means of the sin- 
ner's conviction, and a most important light to guide him to salva- 
tion, under the influence of the Holy Spirit. — Ibid. 

The Shorter Catechism, according to Rushworth, was presented 
to the Assembly, Novembers, 1647. — Ibid, 

6 O 



o- 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 249 

Inwoven with incipient Youth, 
And all that Childhood saw and heard. 

I greet thee, now that years are ripe, 
By thy old-fashioned, honest name ; 

The title-page, Italic type, 
In every thing but age the same. 

I greet thee by the wondrous power 

Association loves to sway, 
And which, in retrospection's hour, 

"VVe all so willingly obey. 

For with thy simple name come up 

The memories of the household shrine, 

On which I poured as true a cup. 
As e'er was pressed from Pleasure's vine. 

That shrine — the dear domestic hearth, 
"Where — governed by affection's rules, 

Which take from head and heart their birth, 
— Exists the first, the best of schools. 



250 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 



For there the searcher fruits may find 
Which Intellect and Love have sown ; 

There soul cooperates with mind, 
And that is Woman's lawful throne. 

My Mother — 0, how aptly spring 

The thoughts of her with thoughts of 
thee! 

For every truth to which I cling 
Of thine, I learned upon her knee. 

Nor I alone — we children knew 

The hour, when she, with happy art, 

Would please and nourish, as we drew 
The milk of knowledge from her hpart. 

When twilight veiled the Sabbath days. 

We clustered round her — boys and girls ; 
From her sweet lips, thy rugged phrase 
Dropped pure and beautiful as pearls. 
O ( 



LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 251 

From her sweet lips we drank each word, 
Tliough strangers to its deep intent : 

Our faith was mighty, as we heard ; — 
'Twas only good our Mother meant ! 

'Twas only good — for Man's Chief End 
Is not to compass wealth or lore ; — 

But, making God a present Friend, 
To win his favor evermore. 

Immortal truth ! who loves it well 

Hath riches that with Heaven endure ; 

'Tis bought by Lazarus, ne'er to sell ; 
Without it Dives is but poor. 

Ay, poor ! though on a diamond-throne ; 

Ay, rich ! though but the scum of earth ; 
I clasp the treasure for my own — 

Mine from a Puritanic Birth. 

My birth ! the pivot on which all 
Turns, that I am, or e'er shall be — 

o o 



o o 

252 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

The present liberty or thrall, 
The future bliss or bale for me. 

My birth ! how bright the mercy shines, 
That giving me of life the breath, 

In pleasant places cast my lines. 
And not within the shades of death ! 

For when my eyes beheld the day, 
'Twas not in pagan night afar, — 

But on my cradle fell and lay 

The wondrous depths of Bethle'm's Star. 

They bathed with floods my baby-feet ; 

Around my Youth the glories ran ; 
They showed me Error's gloomy cheat ; 

They safely lighted me to Man. 

How fast the coming fancies crowd ! 

I see once more that humble dome ; 
I see my sire in worship bowed, — 

The gray-haired, hallowed Priest of Home. 

O 



o 

LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 253 

I see my mother's smile — the light 

Reflected from my radiant joy, 
"Which omens all that's blessed and bright 

Of hope and promise for her boy. 

I hear my mother's voice, — 'tis lov/, — 

The music that so oft beguiled, 
When tired, or ill, my tears would flow ; — 

Again I weep — again a child. 

Again I sit upon her knee ; 

I feel her hand upon my head ; 
I lisp my prayer ; she kisses me ; 

I'm left with " angels round my bed." 

sacred power ! to mould and make 
That which outlives the lasting sky ; 

Time shall the systems crush and break, 
Yet Influence sees his ages die. 

1 praised my Maker when, impressed, 
I traced his finger on the world. 



254 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

In seas that slept, or heaved their crest, 
In clouds that o'er me sailed or curled. 

I praised Him, when the welcome shower 
Filled May's expanding buds with rain ; 

And when His cold with giant power 
Held sad December in its chain. 

I praised Him for the wealth of friends. 
For toil, and rest, and daily food ; 

For all He takes, and all He lends ; 
For all his bounty, large and good. 

But for my birth — of mercies first, 

The balance-poise of Heaven and Hell, 
The cause that lives when I am dust — 

Speak, heart ! thou, tongue ! forever tell. 
******* 
Ye spirits on the hyaline ! 

Do ye not group in clusters, fair, 
And to some Patriarch, benign. 

Repeat The Catechism there ? 
1848. 



o 

LATE AND EAHLY POEJIS. 255 



THE PUB L [CAN. 



" And the publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much 
as his eyes unto heaven, but smote upon his breast, saying', God be 
merciful to me a sinner." — I,uA:e xviii. 13. 



S T 11 O P H E . 

Tax-gatherer ! scum and offal of the nation ! 

A publican, accursed, what dost thou here ? 
None but the chosen may in gladness offer, 

None but the accepted give the tear, 

"Where the Shcchinah bathed the courts in 
glory. 
He — Blessed be He! — notes thy thought 
of sin, 
Thy outward guilt, uncleansed by blood or 
hyssop : 
What canst thou aught but torments win ? 



256 LATE AND EARLY POEMS. 

Hence ! ere great Solomon from marble slum- 
ber 
"Wakes, to chastise thee, who hast dimmed 
the gold ; 
Or, in His temple, suddenly avenging, 
God, thy despairing eyes behold ! 

PUBLICAN. 

God, be merciful to me, a sinner ! 

ANTISTROPHE. 

Soul-wounded one, and full of tribulation, — 

Whose penitence attending angels see, — 
Thou durst not look, in thy deep grief, to 
Heaven : 
Lo, Heaven is moved, and looketh down to 
thee! 

1S49. 



